


Get Webbed

by BrofriendWrites



Category: Marvel Universe - Fandom
Genre: Actual plot, Adhd Peter, Autistic Peter, Bottom Peter Parker, Bucky loves sweets, Clint is in the vents, Comedy, Cute Peter Parker, Dark Comedy, Deadpool Thought Boxes, Deadpool being Deadpool, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings, Friends to Lovers, I'm squinting at you judgingly whenever you don't leave a kudos/comment, Implied Relationships, Js, LIGHT MATHEWxDEADPOOL, Language, Lemon, M/M, NOTHING HAPPENS THO, Natasha is smart, OC characters, Please Leave Comments, Plot, Sam is a Bro, Slow Burn, Smut, THEY DON'T ACTUALLY LIKE EACH OTHER THAT WAY, Thor/Jane - Freeform, Tony Being Tony, Tony/Pepper - Freeform, Top Wade Wilson, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, Wet Dream, Word Count: Over 50k, back stories, eventual, implied Bucky/Steve - Freeform, light stucky, long fic, lowkey autistic peter parker, maybe some kinky stuff later on, thank you for reading, trying to stay true to the comics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-08-14 03:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 50,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7997764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrofriendWrites/pseuds/BrofriendWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Deadpool finds out there are people connected to Vanessa's death, he immediately decides to team up with the person who has and can get information on them--Spider-man. He's an interesting little bugger. Shy, but cocky, a little fidgety and stutters when he's out of his suit. Together they plan and interrogate people to take down this evil corporation. </p><p>Steve Rogers, Tony Stark(Stank) and Sam Wilson frequently pop in to take care of the baby Spider-man who thinks he can full well take care of himself. </p><p>Matt Murdock gets hurt (surprising I know!) and goes to Deadpool for help, there's a lot of dialogue. </p><p>Yes this burn is slow af and yes, there's actually plot and yes, Deadpool breaks the fourth wall repeatedly and yes, I laugh writing this because my own jokes Deadpool tells crack me up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wade is his normal self

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, this is my first Marvel fic! Please comment. I know there's a kudos button but if people don't comment I don't have anything pushing me to write and the fic with fade away. If you want to see this finished please comment!

### Wade P.O.V

###    
I tried to keep her safe, I really did. I thought I would be able to. Thought I was strong enough. I wasn’t. Still not strong enough to keep people safe most likely. The people I care about safe. Good thing she was the last important person in my life.  
[ _You could’ve tried harder to keep her protected_.]  
“I couldn’t,” I think out loud, setting my elbows on the bar and wincing when the sleeves of my Deadpool suit get caught in something sticky. ‘ _She was a person. I couldn’t lock her up no matter how much I wanted to. She had her life to live and I was just lucky enough to be a part of it._ ’ I finish thinking at the boxes. They fall silent, leaving my head feeling empty.  
“Manage to get any digits?” I ask Weasel, who stands behind the counter, looking longingly after a group of girls who had teetered away with tight awkward smiles plastered on their faces.  
“Nah…,” He sighs wistfully, giving a shake of his head. “They looked pretty uncomfortable actually.”  
“That’s because of your otherworldly charm.” I nod, assuring him. He gives me a doubtful sideways look as he wipes inside a deep pitted beer cup with a damp washrag.  
“At least I’m not stuck with your face.” He says kind of matter-of-factly. I tilt my head to the side, my voice taking on a lilt.  
“At least I got a super cock to make up for my lack of Brad-Pittness.”  
( _Duh’ fuck is ‘Brad-Pittness?_ )  
[ _Oh are you not smart enough to understand what he means by that?_ ]  
( _I know what he means-*_  
‘ _What in the actual donkey-shit are you guys arguing about now?_ ’ They fall quiet once again. 

“Who are you hunting down at the moment?” Weasel asks. I raise an eyebrow under my mask.  
“I just unalived a guy by the name of Jasper…,” I try to remember his last name. “Marksen? Anyways, like last week. So no one a.t.m.” He nods, checking out the girls that he tried to talk to when they came up to the bar to get a few drinks.  
“I was just asking because some black dude came in earlier and set-” Without moving his eyes from the chicks across the room, he reaches below the bar and feels on one of the dusty shelves for a card and slides it across the counter to me. “This on the counter, saying to give it to Deadpool.” He finishes. 

I pick up the card between two fingers to examine it. It’s white, the front side holding shiny silver lettering that spells out ‘S.H.E.I.L.D’, the other side holding a phone number in the same font. My eyes narrow.  
“Oh hella dawg to the nah.” I express, tossing the card back across the bar so it falls back on the other side.  
“What is it?” Weasel asks, bending to pick it up and set it back on the counter.  
“Fucking avenger shit.” I explain. “Goody-two-shoes. I do not need them in my life along with the X-men trying to get me on the godly side.” I shudder dramatically. He cracks an awkward half smile.  
“I dunno Wade, the dude seemed pretty scary. He had these goggles.” I widen my eyes til’ they’re as big as saucers, cupping my face like a frightened woman.  
“Goggles?! Oh em gee! Whatever shall we do?!” Weasel rolls his eyes and I grin under my mask, lifting it up above my mouth to sip at the beer set in front of me, which is like, seventy percent froth.  
( _S.H.E.I.L.D’s never contacted us before. Maybe it’s important?_ )  
‘ _If it’s important enough they’ll contact me directly._ ’ I answer.  
[ _Touche._ ] Yellow agrees. 

~o ~o -> 0 

I’m sitting on the edge of the bridge, swinging my legs back and forth in the open air while wailing along with my walkman that blares in my ears when a smooth slide and click sounds filters through my earbuds. I pause my music but keep singing, acting as if nothing is out of the ordinary. When I hear a pair of feet land to my right I jump up, pulling my gun out of the holster of my belt and hold it to the temple of-  
“Chocolate eagle?” I question. 

Sam Wilson narrows his eyes at me. “Falcon.” He corrects solemnly, pushing the barrel of the gun down away from his head.  
“Ohhhh,” I drawl out, kicking up the heel of my foot. “So you’re scary black goggles guy!” Falcon tilts his head in what’s probably half annoyance, half confusion as he pushes his goggles up onto his forehead. He then ignores my childish banter by saying,  
“We think there may be an assignment you’d be interested in joining us on-”  
“Oh so the people at S.H.E.I.L.D aren’t even individual anymore?” I cut in. “It’s all ‘we’ now?” He continues talking as if I hadn’t opened my mouth.  
“We think the leader is either responsible or directly connected to the people that were involved in Vanessa's’ murder.” 

I freeze, my shoulders instantly stiff at the sound of her name spoken aloud. Honestly it’s not so much that it hurts anymore. But the thought of avenging her death makes my blood boil in just the right way, sending adrenaline surging through my veins. And of course the boxes go nuts.  
[ _WHAT. Where?! How do we get to them?!? We need to unalive them so hard!_ ]  
( _Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. We need to wrap our bare scarred hands around their throat and slowly squeeze the light out of their eyes._ )  
I look at Falcon.  
“Tell me more.” I demand. He nods in stiff understanding.  
“We think they’re set up here in New York somewhere. Well- Tony is fairly positive. We all are. We’ve patrolled around there and have seen activities done by their corporation very recently.” I’m nodding along to his words.  
“I’m in.” I say without thinking it through. He looks a bit surprised and his mouth twitches up into a half-smirk. 

He claps his gloved hands together. “Great.” He voices. “If you want more information, meet the idol of New York tomorrow at the top of the Empire State building.” With that, he unfurls his wings and takes a few steps back, running and throwing himself off of the ledge, his wings catching after only a short drop through the air. 

I give a low whistle. “Pretty impressive.” I voice aloud. The boxes don’t respond. They have went very quiet after their immediate outbursts. Probably because if we think about what’s to come too much, our head will start hurting very badly. So badly not even an OD of baby Tylenol PM can solve our problems. 

I drop, swinging my legs over the side and about to drop into the water below when I pause. Wait. Did he say to meet at the top of the fucking empire state building? I groan outwardly. Who did he say I was meeting again? I forget. Something about the idle of New York. Whoever it was, I was insanely looking forward to getting information.

I let go of the edge, whooping as I fall, hitting past the water’s surface with a loud stinging slap. I don’t have to swim to the shore but the jump is fun and it washes my suit at the same time. Win/win. From the small beach, my apartment is about an hours walk.  
“Ay' taxi!” I call, waving my arms like a maniac. Sadly, two speed by me, the roads not nearly as crowded as they were two hours ago during after-work rush hour. 

I’m about to pull out a gun and aim it at the next taxi, demand them to hit the brakes, when I see a taxi stop for a middle-aged business man standing at the curb not two yards away from me.  
( _GoGoGo!_ ) White shouts and the race is on. I dart forward as fast as I can, knocking the innocent civilian to the ground and jumping through the taxi’s back window.  
“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” I say casually, turning myself upright in the backseat, recovering from my John Cena dive through the small opening. The man curses at me in another language, Spanish.  
“Eso no es agradable.” I pout, rolling up my window. I turn to the man up front. His eyes are wide as he stares at me in the rear-view mirror. “Take me to the _Organics_ Market on elms.” I say, drawing out the word ‘organic’ in a thick fancy lilt. The man nods quickly and pushes a button up front, starting the taxi’s timer. 

I roll up the bottom of my mask over my mouth, lean forward and huff heavily of the glass. I then proceed to draw multiple penises on the glass with the tip of my finger. I smile to myself, oddly satisfied.  
“Hey driver!” I call suddenly. He jumps in the front seat. “Play some tunes!” I encourage, beating on the back of his seat. He clicks on the radio, turning the knob until a clear station comes through. Some shit stick teenage bop covered in cotton candy and served on a sparkly platter enters my ears and I sing along happily to Taylor Swift's’ outdated song ‘22’.  
“ **I’M FEELIN’ TWENTY-TWO. EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT HMM HMM HMM HM HM HMM**.” I break off into humming because I don’t know all of the words. Surprising I know. 

The taxi gives a unappreciative squeal as it stops.  
“Dang!” I whine as I step out of the car, tossing a ten dollar bill into the front seat and climbing out of the window. “I love this song too! -I roll up, I roll up, I roll up shawty I roll up.”  
Once the taxi is completely out of sight around the corner of the street, I walk to the curb, glancing at people who stare openly at me, or my apparel anyways. The apartment complex isn’t shit. But it’s not really nice either. I wanted a place that wasn’t leaking water through the ceiling in all of the rooms, but I didn’t want anything that stood out either. Marble’s Complexes is perfect. 

I push through the smudged double doors, raising a hand in greeting to the heavyset black man sitting behind the front desk.  
“How are ya’ Big Ben?” I ask.  
“Fine D.P., you?” He responds, white teeth standing out against his dark skin. I grin behind my mask.  
“Fantastic.” I answer, clicking my heels together in the air as I skip to the elevator. It takes a minute for it to come down and the doors to open. I step inside and press the number three on the wall, the button lighting up under my touch. My stomach lurches in the way I like and a few moments later, the heavy metal doors open up to beige walls and colorful carpeting.

[ _Do the zappy thing~_ ]  
I scrape my feet along the floor of the hallway as I walk to my door. I grab my key from under my door and unlock the top lock, preparing myself as I wrap my hand around the shiny knob, a small shock hitting all of my fingers. 

As soon as I’m through the doorway and the door is closed behind me, I’m reaching an arm over and behind my head to unzip the hidden zipper that starts at the top of my spine, shrugging the tight hot material that’s still a bit damp from earlier off my shoulders and down my torso. After it’s down by my waist and I’ve stretched out my arms I pull off my mask and set it haphazardly on the kitchen counter, kicking my way out of the legs of the suit and leave it laying by the door, sighing contently as I sink into the worn out lay-z boy in my living area. 

( _Today has been interesting._ )  
[ _Sooo excited for tomorrow._ ] The voices pipe up. I ignore them and search around in the ass of my chair for the remote before finding it and switching my flat screen t.v. on, turning it to the comedy channel.  
[ _If we ever meet Sal in real life we are going to punch him in the face._ ]  
( _He’s so annoying._ ) White agrees. I laugh half halfheartedly at the boxes and the show ‘Impractical Jokers’, the four men's loud laughing resonating throughout the room. 

 

~~o -> 0  
‘ _Why didn’t he tell me a goddamn time?_ ’ I think to myself, laying sprawled out flat on my back, eyes trained up at the sky. I’m waiting on Tony Stark. The douche. He’s cool I guess. But come on, that facial hair practically screams douche bag.  
‘How long have I been here now?’ I ask the boxes.  
[ _Oh well let me just check my watch-wait that’s right, I don’t have one._ ]  
White makes a chuckling sound. (A few hours.) It answers. I take a deep breath and let it out on a loud drawn-out groan.  
( _Don’t be a whiner._ ) I narrow my eyes at the sky.  
“Excuse you? I am the owner and the one in control of this body and I will whine as much as I very damn well please.” I retort.

“Wait what?” Another voice asks, not one of mine. ' _Right?_ '  
[ _No._ ]  
( _Wasn’t me._ ) The boxes tell me at the same time. I slowly move my gaze to see-  
“Ohhh,” I sit up, grinning stupidly big behind my mask. “Okay okay, Falcon said ‘Idol of New York.” 

Spiderman’s blank mask stares back at me.  
“Um.” He voices and I cackle, standing to my full height and clapping my hands together gleefully.  
“I’ve met all the superheroes now! Do I get like, a medal for that? Or do I have to walk an old lady across the street first?” I swear he rolls his eyes.  
[ _You’re getting distracted._ ]  
( _Ask about Vanessa dumbass._ )

I somber suddenly asking, “Who is it?” Spidey-guy tilts his head for a moment as he thinks about what I mean. When he realizes what I’m asking he straightens and relaxes, his shoulders hunching slightly as he does the motion someone does when they’re putting their hands in their pockets. Except his suit doesn’t have pockets so instead his hands fidget with the stretchy material on his thighs. He’s very easy to read. 

“They call themselves ‘Honest Truth’.” He starts and I bristle at the title.  
( _That’s a bit redundant._ )  
“They kill people who they see fit, like assassins, but they run themselves.” He pauses and I ask,  
“What are their reasons for killing people?”  
[ _Unalive-_ ] Yellow tries to correct.  
( _Shh. He’s trying to be serious._ ) Spiderman shifts from one foot to the other before saying,  
“I’m not sure. I’ve spied on them a few times but it’s hard to tell- they’ve got really thick walls.” I nod and he continues. “From some of their most recent ‘work’ I assume their reasons can be from anywhere to someone posing as a threat to their corporation to getting rid of someone in order to disable someone else.”

[ _That’s what they did to us._ ]  
“I know.” I voice aloud. Spider-man tilts his head again.  
“Hm?” He asks and I shake my head, dismissing him.  
“Where are they?” I ask him. Webs nervously scratches at the back of his neck. ‘Why is he so nervous?’ I wonder to myself.  
[ _Maybe he’s just antsy. Get it? Antsy?_ ]  
( _Or maybe he’s autistic. Haven’t you read the comics?_ ) White questions. I roll my eyes at it. 

“I can’t tell you right now…” Spidey answers my question. I jerk my head in his direction, sending him a death glare through my mask. He stiffens and I smirk darkly. ‘ _Spider-senses are good for something at least._ ’  
“It’s only because we have to make a plan first.” He says, voice suddenly strong. “You can’t go busting up the place and trying to shoot everyone down.” In response to his words, a growl rises in my throat.  
[ _We’re talking about Vanessa here!_ ] Yellow shouts. [ _Of course we can kill all of them!_ ]  
“Because,” Webs continues. “We need to ask them some questions. We don’t know which one exactly was in direct correspondence with Vanessa’s murder.”  
( _That’s a big word._ )  
‘ _He’s probably another genius._ ’  
[ _True._ ]

I nod slowly. “Do you have any names?” He gives a small shake of his head, almost like a tick.  
“I can’t tell you that for the same reason.”  
“ **Ugh.** ” I complain. 

There’s a brief silence, which I take advantage of to get a good look at the hero. He’s slim, toned, but kind of… petite overall. Small shoulders and hands, narrow hips. He stands around 5’10.  
[ _Hot a.f._ ] Yellow compliments.  
( _It’s the ass that demands attention._ )  
[ _The tight spandex is killing me._ ]  
‘ _Could you two cut it out?_ ’  
[ _Whyyyy?_ ] Yellow whines.  
‘ _We can marvel at his beauty later. Right now we need to pay attention._ ’  
( _‘Marvel’._ )  
‘ _Sh._ ’

The eyes of his mask narrow uncomfortably under the scrutiny of my gaze.  
“When are we gonna’ shoot up a plan?” I question, breaking the silence. He jumps slightly but recovers, resting a hand on his hip.  
“Soon.” He answers shortly. I pinch my tongue between my teeth. Wow. This guy is really trying my patience. Nobody ever tries that. They know what happens when they do. But… of course Spidey is different. He’s more at my level of agility, physical strength etc.  
( _Just leave._ )  
[ _He must not have enough information yet._ ]  
‘ _So I should just leave?_ ’  
( _Yes._ )  
[ _He’ll find you when he’s ready._ ]  
I nod, swinging my foot and scraping the heel of my boot along the ground.  
“Well I better get going,” I sum up. Spider-man doesn’t respond, just casually hops off the side of the roof. A “Whoop!” follows shortly after as he catches himself with his webbing, proceeding to swing from building to building.

‘ _I wonder what all of his abilities are._ ’  
( _That’s why there’s Google._ )  
I pause, hands fluttering to my waist and feeling for my phone. It’s tucked in my belt. A slightly outdated iPhone 5s. “Okay Google,” I start. My phone beeps and an automated: “ **How can I help you**?” sounds in response.  
“What are Spider-Man’s powers?”  
“ **Searching for: What are Spider-Man’s powers… one thousand seven hundred and thirty million results found**.”

I read: ‘The most common are: Wall crawling, web shooting, enhanced strength, speed, reflexes, durability, stamina, healing, and agility.’

“Huh.” I voice.  
[ _You have to remember that this is all just stipulation too._ ]  
( _And assumption._ )  
I pause. ‘*Don’t they mean the same thing?*’  
( _That’s why there’s Google._ ) I roll my eyes, lowering myself off the roof and onto the ledge of the nearest window. 

[ _So much work to get down and we got almost no information._ ] Yellow complains.  
( _We got to see Spider-man’s ass._ ) White points out.  
I grunt in agreement. “Would it be weird if I touched myself tonight?” I wonder, my arms beginning to shake from exertion. The voices are quiet so I assume, that yes it would be, but I’m going to anyway and I’ll enjoy the hell out of it. 

As my feet finally touch the sweet, sweet ground, my stomach rumbles. “Oop. Time to eat.” I state, shaking out my arms. With that, I begin to skip my way around the front corner of the skyscraper and down the bustling street. I shove a few people with my shoulders that refuse to move slightly so I can get by and to others that aren’t paying attention to where they’re walking. 

“Ay’ Jimmy!” I call cheerfully, dropping down to sit on the sidewalk, crossing my legs underneath me and folding my hands in my lap, looking up at the middle-aged hot-dog stand guy with large eyes he can’t see. “Could you spare a morsel of food for a poor, suffering orphan?” I say in a small voice, a british accent on my tongue. “I haven’t eaten in nearly three days-” I break off in a round of obnoxious over-the-top coughing. Jim rolls his eyes, but his mouth twitches under his mustache.  
“Hello Mister Pool,” He grunts, stooping into his cart with the little chomper things you use to pick up food with and grabbing a hot dog. “Ya’ hungry?” 

My stomach growls in answer. Very loud and demanding, I pat it. “Sh.. Quiet now young one.” Jim places the hot dog on a bun and hands it to me. I try to eat it out of his hand all romantic-like but he isn’t having any of that and almost drops it. Good thing I catch it, a pout on my face. 

“Still pushing me away Jimmy,” I say dramatically, mouth full of hot dog, leaning against his cart with a hand draped over my forehead, my right hand holding the other half of my lunch. “How can you expect me to love you when you won’t open up to me…” He makes an uncomfortable sound.  
“Just thank me for the hot dog and get on your way.” I grin. He’s so fun to tease.  
[ _I wonder if itsy jumpy spidey will be fun to tease too._ ]  
“Thank you for the ‘dog good sir.” I say, imitating tipping my hat. He nods.  
“You too.” 

I swing around the light pole embedded in the sidewalk before returning on my walk back to the bar to meet up with Weasel, get a drink maybe, and see if there’re any new assignments I can sit on, any new evil people I can end.


	2. For the good of the people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets information on the people who killed Vanessa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment if you want to see this story continue and thank you for everyone who commented/kudosed on the first chapter!

### Peter Parker P.O.V

###    
“Huh?” I ask, confused.  
“Deadpool,” Tony says again, carefully enunciating the word as he starts to lose his patience. I run a hand through my hair- a nervous habit of mine- and say for the third time,  
“You need him because he can’t die?” Tony rubs a hand over his face.  
“Yes. It would be very useful to have a fearless Avenger,” He says through gritted teeth, pausing to add, “Of course I think he’s unstable and according to rumors- insane- but there was a vote and I was on the losing side.”  
“S-so you want me to play nice, help him on this assignment?” I stutter. Not being in my suit, I’m as nervous and fidgety as usual. Especially sitting in front of Tony Stark. 

Tony nods, scrubbing at his facial hair with his thumb and forefinger. “You know the organization. We traced it back and Falcon said he ‘already found Spider-man on the job’. It’s Honest Truth. Sound familiar?”  
“Oh.” I voice, leaning back in my chair and running my palms over the thighs of my jeans. “Yeah I know them. I’ve been listening in lately but right now they're too big for me to handle.”  
“So Deadpool could help right?” He says. I’m pretty sure it’s rhetorical so I don’t answer. He pulls out his phone and thumbs through it before showing it to me. A case file of a… murder. Of a pretty woman named ‘Vanessa Carlysle’. I frown, glancing up at Tony with a ‘why are you showing me this’ face.  
“This was Deadpool’s old girlfriend. Died a few years ago. We found this in one of the hard drives you stole from Honest Truth.”

“Ohh…” Realization dawns on me. “Okay I see. So you want me to… warm him up for the Avengers?”  
“Exactly,” Tony confirms. “And we’ll have someone there to watch over you at all times in case Deadpool decides to act like rumors say.”  
“Okay…” I start but Tony holds up a hand.  
“And aside from the fact that you’re Spider-man and do this for free every other day of the week, I am willing to fund a full semester of your college classes.”  
“I’m in.” I say quickly, sitting forward in my seat, eyes wide. Tony does this little amused yet pleased smile. 

~~~~~

“I’ve met all the superheroes now! Do I get like, a medal for that? Or do I have to walk an old lady across the street first?” Deadpool asked, tone daunting. I blinked. ‘ _Wait what?_ ’ I thought to myself. ‘ _He’s acting like such a kid._ ’ He cackled and did this giddy tapping thing with his toes. 

I felt a bubble of laughter rise in my chest but I pushed it down. ‘ _He’s funny though. Sarcastic?_ ’ 

Now I stand vertically, holding myself onto the wall with nothing but my feet, trying to see around the corner while not stepping on the ground that, from what I’ve heard, creaks. I bend my knees, pressing my hands into the cold brick wall and crawling along the side, stopping right before I round the corner. My ears twitch.  
“Sir,” Says a small voice- a woman’s voice- “Moses says that we are being tracked.” My shoulders stiffen and I strain my senses harder to hear the soft rumbling of the man’s response,  
“Any idea who it is?”  
“No sir,” The woman answers.  
“Details.” The man demands and I hear the rustling of papers.  
“Moses claims he’s seen a form multiple times spying on some of his recent missions.”  
“What kind of form?”  
“A man, sir.”  
“Yes I assumed that. I mean where.”  
“He didn’t specify.”

My muscles relax slightly. They don’t know much. Very little information. But what I want are those files.  
“Yes sir, I will.” The woman says, following her words is the sound of her heels clicking along the tiled floor. In reaction to the fear of being seen, my legs propel me up the wall and into the corner, high above the woman’s head. I swear, I make absolutely no sound as my feet hold me in place but even so, the woman that I had been eavesdropping on- a short black lady- stops at the locked entry-way and turns her head. Her eyes swing over the area but don’t land on me. 

Once she’s around the corner, I let out a relieved breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. ‘Okay Spider-man. It’s go time.’ I tell myself, hopping down silently from the wall and peeking around the corner. I know the man from before is still there… I need him distracted. Good thing I contacted Sam WIlson who was ‘watching over me’ (trailing me) while I was talking to Deadpool. He should be right outside. I use the small bluetooth Tony gave me a while back, the one connected to their line automatically and switch it on.

“Falcon,” I say, the words barely a breath in my mouth. There’s a slight crackle of feedback in my ear and I wait.  
“I’m in.” Falcon answers after a moment.  
“I need you to distract the man in the third room off the main office.” I tell him, my voice bouncing off the inside of my mask and resonating around me. “I need him out.”  
“On it.” He says confidently. 

I crawl back into the corner I had hidden in before and wait for a count of eight mississippi’s before I hear a loud crash- like glass shattering- from the main office.  
“What-” The man says. I hear his chair squeak as he gets up and crosses the warehouse- storage-place-made-office and out the door. He doesn’t shut it. I jerk my hand in the direction he went, shooting my webbing over the handle of the door, shutting it and sticking it the the door frame, making it difficult for anyone to open it. 

I drop down a second time and hop softly from foot to foot as I make my way to his desk, trying to keep the floors from creaking. I sit down in his large, swively office chair and swing around to face his computer. He didn’t lock it- thank god- if he did I’d be able to crack it but, I’d be wasting a lot more time. 

I immediately open his trash can and his files. I don’t expect anything to be too hidden since this *is* an evil corporation. Not like it’s a normal office and he’s trying to keep things hush hush. The files are falsely labeled, a half-assed precaution probably done ‘just in case’. The first, literally three files, are filled with porn and I hastily exit out of them, feeling flustered even though no one is around. 

“Here.” I voice quietly aloud to myself, pressing my empty rubber pikachu hard drive into the side of the computer. I click trust on the pop-up and download. People’s files- I don’t know if they’re of the deceased or people they want to kill- and coding flashes across the screen. 

“Everything okay?” Falcon’s voice pants in my ear. I nearly jump out of my skin.  
“Y-yes.” I answer, settling myself back into the seat.  
“Really? Good, because they pulled out guns and I jumped. Distraction time over.” I nod even though he can’t see it.  
“Time to skedaddle.” I say, removing the hard drive with a click and exiting out of the tabs I’ve opened, returning the computer to it’s home screen. 

I do a front flip-dive out of the broken window I came through and drop a story before I shoot out my hand and catch myself with my webbing, remembering too late that I left my webbing on the door. Not the smartest move. I swing onto the roof of the building next to the warehouse. There’s a ‘slide-click’ and Sam Wilson’s feet drops onto the cement beside me.

“Did you get what you needed?” He asks, pushing his goggles up to his hairline. I nod, smiling and proudly holding up the hard drive for him to see.  
“I think I did.” He claps a hand on my shoulder.  
“Good job kid. When do you want to act?” I tilt my head, thinking.  
“I have to go over the files first,” I say finally. “Figure out a plan. Hopefully the fastest and easiest way to take them down. But,” I sing-song the last word. “That’s not how things usually play out.” Falcon grins.  
“You’re a good kid.” He compliments, giving me a half-smile. “Keep yourself safe. Hide behind Deadpool if you have to. Apparently he can be burned into ash and still rise out completely fine.” I crack a smile, thankful for his concern, as he turns and hops of the roof, his wings catching his after falling a few yards. 

The last hard drives I had stolen I had given to Tony but this one was staying with me this time. I got Deadpool's number from Pepper- that woman seemed to have everyone's number somewhere in her file cabinet, and I'm feeling pretty badass.  
I punch Deadpool's number in a pay phone since I don't want his being able to trace my number and find out my true identity. He picks up in the second ring:  
"Hello?" He sounds out of breath and I hear grunting in the background, like, not sexual grunts but familiar grunts. The sounds men make when they're fighting- wait. Did I just say sex sounds weren't familiar? God I'm such a loser-  
"Hello?" He asks again.  
"Oh!" I respond. "Deadpool, it's your friendly pal Spider-man." He gives a breathy chuckle, followed by a  
"Uh!" and 'whap!' sound of someone getting beaten to a pulp.  
"I have what we need. It's all in a harddrive. Like to go over it with me?"  
"Hell yeah," He grunts and I'm not sure if he's talking to me or the men he's fighting, but his voice makes the hair on my arms stand up.  
"Meet me- **oof!** \- at the Organics Market on Elms, tomorrow at three. I'm not climbing up any more skyscrapers."

The call breaks off into a dial tone. I frown. I was the one who was going to have the upperhand in that conversation but he ended up being the one making the plans.  
"Next time." I say to myself. Someone walking past me gives me a funny look and I raise the hood of my jacket over my head. 

And of course I’m walking home because I don’t have enough money for a cab or the subway- hah.  
‘ _What am I doing,_ ’ I ask myself. ‘ _Just turned twenty, living by myself, in my second semester of college, living as Spider-man, living without sleep, balancing a job as a pizza boy._ ’ I sigh. ‘And I’m still in my suit under my clothes, why don’t I just web home?’ 

I turn into a secluded alley, about to unbutton my shirt when a shiver runs down my spine, hard and sudden and the sound of pounding footsteps reach my ears- A hand clamps over my mouth and something sharp and cold digs into my neck, a rough grip whips me around to see Deadpool. He’s breathing hard, like he’s been chasing the three guys, one of whom currently holds a knife to my neck, and stands defensive and panting, a butterfly knife in his hand, a gun at his hip. 

“Alright Guy, you gonna’ involve kids now?” He nods, seemingly pissed. “I see how you’re gonna play.” And with that he launches himself at the guy to my right. The guy holding a knife to my neck’s grip slacks and I snap my elbow back, bringing it in contact with his nose and feeling it break. I duck under his arms and dance out of the way. My fingers curl and I grip my fists hard enough so my nails break the skin of my palm. I’m itching to fight, but I know the best thing to do is run, that’s what any civilian would do but, not matter how much I have to hide it right now, when the guy that was holding me recovers from the initial shock of me breaking his nose, he comes at me again, blood running down over his mouth and chin. 

As he makes a grab for me, I grab his arm and twist it, not using any of my body weight and just my strength, in an attempt to hopefully make myself look like I have the abilities of a regular civilian. He cries out, which I would snort at if he didn’t already look pretty banged up. Were these the guys Deadpool was dealing with on the phone earlier? 

I glance over to see Deadpool _stab a guy in the side_ and I accidently snap the guy's wrist I was twisting.  
“Oops,” I apologize, my grip going slack. He backhands me. Let me say that again. The guy _backhands me_ and it takes everything in me not to throw his head against the wall and web him there. Instead, I let the blow knock me to the side like it should. Before I can defend myself further, he wraps his arms around me, holding my limbs against my side and clamping a hand over my mouth. 

“Now you’re gonna come with me nice and easy-” He says before breaking off into a choking noise. A few moments later his hand falls from my face and I turn around to see Deadpool has the guy’s head in a choke hold, cutting off his air supply just long enough to where he passes out and letting him slump to the ground.  
“You okay kid?” Deadpool asks, his breaths coming out hard through his nose. I nod and wrap my arms around my chest, feeling nervous. Oh fuck me. Who am I kidding, I’m always nervous.  
“You sure? Want me to call the hospital or anything?” He presses. “Though from what I saw it looks like you were kickin’ his ass. You know karate or somethin’?” He rolls the ‘r’ in karate and holds out the ‘e’ as an ‘a’ sound. I glance to the side to hide a smile.  
“Something like that.” I agree.  
“Do you need a ride home?”

Slight panic bubbles up in my chest. I don’t know the length of his abilities. Could he like, smell spider-man on me? Maybe he can recognize my heartbeat or see the way my muscles twitch. My arms tighten around myself.  
“N-no I’m fine.” I tell him.  
“You sure?” He double-checks. “No injuries you want me to look at?” I shake my head.  
“Thank you for the offer.” I say. “And thank you for saving me.” He nods.  
“It only costed me a stab wound.” He says. I’m pretty sure he’s serious, but I know that stab wound to him is like a paper cut for me so it doesn’t scare me that much. A normal civilian would, in fact, be concerned.  
“Oh my god are you okay? Do I need to call nine-one-one?” I ask frantically, going to pull my cell out of my jacket pocket. He covers my wrist with a hand.  
“Thanks for the concern but I don’t need it. ‘ **Get lost kid, I work alone.** ’” He says in a rumbled voice, quoting Mr.Incredible. I wet my lips with my tongue and tilt my head at him in a way of saying goodbye.  
“H-have a good day sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading~


	3. Funny how things work out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool takes down some bad guys and unknowingly saves Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a long one! Kudos please but comment please! Tell me what you like or don't like, any writing mistakes. But comments are what really encourage me to write

### Wade Wilson’s P.O.V

###    
I flapped the gold card in front of me like my prize. It is kind of. It has the names of the men I’ll be ‘taking care’ of. Apparently a group of guys who work under one main guy- name, Adam Soundro- by kidnapping girls and collecting the ransom. Aside form that, many of the girls said they had also been raped and manhandled. The worst part is the time they stole a little sister and her older sister, they raped the older sister in front of the little one. The said one also got out and ran screaming. She got a bullet in the back of her head before anyone heard her. 

Yeah. These guys were gonna get it good. I raise my duffel bag onto my shoulder and get in the taxi I hailed, all business.  
“Where to?” The driver asks. I glance up at him.  
“315 West 232 street corps,” I say and he nods. I know there’s a shitty little apartment where they stay. I don’t know if they have any girls at the moment.

I step out of the taxi, grabbing some cash from the duffel bag and letting it flutter onto the back seat before slamming the door shut and waving him off.  
( _Go time?_ ) White asks.  
“Go time.” I confirm, clicking the clip into the bottom of the gun and hanging it at my belt. I enter the apartment building fairly easily, and by fairly easily I mean people practically jumped out of the way when they saw the gun at my hip. And by practically I mean that’s actually what they literally did. 

I get stuck in the elevator with some old lady. She looks at me the way she probably looks at the rest of the world; full of sadness, and crippling depression.  
[ _Get it? ‘crippling’?_ ]  
I laugh aloud and she gives an evil librarian look. ‘ _Ooh scary._ ’ I think at her as I hum along to the cheesy elevator music. 

When it dings, I hold up a finger.  
“Well this has been just wonderful,” I tell the old lady as I step out of the elevator and on the second floor. “But I really must be going.” I wrinkle my nose. “God it smells like taco bell diarrhea and cock gobblers up here.”  
[ _Like young fucks who need to be taken down._ ]  
“That too.” I agree, knocking on the apartment labeled ‘14’ in grimy, slowly peeling letters. 

“Who is it?” I gruff muffled voice sounds.  
“It’s the pizza man!” I say cheerfully.  
“I didn’t order pizza.” Another guy says.  
“Oh but I think you did,” I press. “Pepperoni with a side of-” A college age kid opens the door, wearing way too many gold chains. “Ass-kicking!” I finish, raising my leg to kick him hard in the chest, knocking him on his ass. I grab my gun from my belt and press it to his temple. “You got any girls in here?” I growl, looking at the three other guys looking at me with wide eyes, still sprawled out on the couch where they had probably been binge eating and sleeping..

“I-I dunno’ what you’re talkin’ about man.” One sputters, looking to the others for help.  
( _But help won’t come._ ) I smirk to myself.  
“Oh I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” I say, voice low.  
“We don’t have nothin’.” Another one pipes up, and the way the other three look at him, I’m guessing he’s the one in charge. I put the hand that’s not holding my gun to the guy’s head on my hip.  
“Come on.” I command. He slowly stands and I keep the gun against his head. “That’s it… Nice and easy, like how you treat a virgin.” I grab the back of his neck and pull his back against my shoulder. “I doubt you treated those poor girls like that though huh.” He grunts and struggles against my grip and I dig the barrel of the gun into his temple. He stills. “Now you’re gonna’ show me around the house huh?” I tell him. “And you guys are going to stay right there.” I say to the others. “‘Less you want to see your friend’s brain on the wall, capiche?” A few nods in answer. 

I walk the fast-food and cigarettes- smelling douche pimple into the living area and down the short hallway and into the back room. Nothing here but a bunk bed and a pile of blankets on the floor, an ashtray on it’s side by the door. I pull him back out of the doorway.  
“Where are they?” I demand.  
“Not telling you asshole.” He replies.  
“Okay,” I grunt, moving him out of the doorway.  
[ _So they do have captives._ ]  
I turn him to face the closet door. It probably has shelves in it and is too small to fit any normal sized person in there but when I open it, I see a teenage girl curled up on the floor, tied and gagged, eyes wide with fear. And that’s when I pull the trigger of my gun. These guys totally deserve to be unalived. Of course the girl starts screaming. Oh I didn’t think that through. 

Arms wrap around my neck from behind and I turn, punching the guy in the face. He’s launched away from me and bounces off the wall. I hold out a hand in the girls’ direction.  
“It’s okay, I’ll take care of these douchebags for you.” I soothe as the other two guys jump me at the same time.  
( _Not very honorable._ ) I throw one off me, whipping my fist across the side of his head and kneeing the other guy in the side.  
That’s when my phone rings. I grab it out of my elt and slide the green phone across the screen.  
“Hello?” I answer as the first guy recovers, launching himself at my knees. I jump out of the way and kick him in the face, digging the heel of my boot between his shoulder blades. There’s no response.  
“Hello?” I ask again, impatient as I step harder on the guy’s back.  
“Oh!” Someone exclaims on the other side of the line. "Deadpool, it's your friendly pal Spider-man." I give a breathy chuckle as the third guy tries to kick my foot off his partner. He gives a pained ‘Uh!’ as I punch him in the stomach.  
"I have what we need. It's all in a harddrive. Like to go over it with me?" Spider-man says, his voice cocky. Excitement wells in my chest.  
"Hell yeah," I grunt, watching as the three guys make a break for it, slamming the apartment door behind them. "Meet me- **oof**!” My elbow hits the wall behind me as I tear the duct tape off the girl. “At the Organics Market on Elms, tomorrow at three. I'm not climbing up any more skyscrapers." I hang up at that, moving the girls gag from her mouth.”Go.” I say quietly. “Get help. Stay safe.” She nods and I stand, shaking out my arms. 

( _Time to disable these fuckers._ ) I kick out the glass window in the living room, back up a few steps and run, flipping out the window and landing on the ledge.  
[ _There._ ] They’re together, not smart but I didn’t think they were the brightest star in the twinkle of my eye.  
“This isn’t gonna tickle.” I say as I drop a story, wincing as I land behind them as they exit the front of the building. “Wow what a small world,” I marvel. “Didn’t I just see you guys?”

One of them make a scared noise and two of them turn tail and run, except for the tallest one, who fumbles with a gun, pulling it out of his jacket and pointing it at me. I raise my own, aiming and firing. I hit his gun and it goes flying across the parking lot.  
[ _Were you aiming for his gun?_ ]  
“Nope.” I answer, lunging forward to grab the guy’s hoodie but he’s just out of my reach. “Shit.” I say, falling onto hard pavement and rolling back onto my feet. I take off running, almost falling on my face from my own momentum but manage to stay upright, Trying to aim my gun at one of their heads. I shoot and the duck, though the bullet bounces off a rusted dumpster, not anywhere near them. “Bad Deadpool.” I scold. They stop, have I ran them into a dead end? “Good Deadpool.” I say as I stop and see- a hostage? Really? Shit. I take out my knife and grip it in my hand. 

The one in the middle, the leader?, has a small knife pressed to the kid’s throat. He doesn’t look scared, but holds very still, glaring at the leader out of the corner of his eye, head raised and neck extended.  
“Alright guy, you gonna’ involve kids now? I see how you’re gonna play.” With that, I launch myself at the guy to his right, knocking him to the ground and rolling with him, and when I see that the kid has his captor under control, I punch him in the face until he’s out cold.  
“Ah that feels good,” I grunt as the second guy jumps my shoulders. I stand, throwing him off me and running at his stomach, football style. As he pulls my hair in a pussy attempt to get me off, I stab his side, warm blood immediately rushing over my hand. 

I stand, rolling my shoulders to see the leader of the group, his arms wrapped around the kid from behind and I decide to give him a taste of his own medicine.  
“Now you’re gonna’ come with me nice and easy-” He’s saying as I wrap my arms around his neck in a choke hold, cutting off his air supply, which I hold until he goes slack in my grip. I let him slump to the ground, breathing hard. 

“You okay kid?” I ask. He nods. “You sure?” I double-check. “Want me to call the hospital or anything? Though from what I saw it looks like you were kickin’ his ass. You know karate or somethin’?” I pronounce karate the right way thank you very much.  
“Something like that.” He says, a small smile ghosting his lips. Damn is this kid a beauty too. He’s got light brown hair and brown eyes, pale skin and a mole on his jaw.  
( _Which one is he? Like, Tobey Maguire, Andrew Garfield, or Tom Holland?_ ) White asks.  
‘ _Well I’m basing everything off of the comics and the newest Marvel movies so Tom Holland._ ’ I think in answer.  
“Do you need a ride home?” I say aloud. 

“N-no I’m fine.” He stutters.  
[ _So cute._ ]  
“You sure?” I say, hoping my voice doesn’t sound like a whine. “No injuries you want me to look at?” I _really_ want to look over his injuries.  
( _If you know what I mean~_ )  
“Thank you for the offer.” He tells me with a shake of his head. “And thank you for saving me.” I nod.  
“It only costed me a stab wound.” I inform him. His eyes widen for a moment before returning to their normal size and then widening again.  
“Oh my god are you okay? Do I need to call nine-one-one?” He asks frantically, going to pull his cell out of his jacket pocket. I cover his wrist with a hand.  
“Thanks for the concern but I don’t need it. ‘ **Get lost kid, I work alone**.’” I finish, quoting the Disney movie ‘The Incredibles’. His tongue swipes over his lips to wet them and the feeling of want rolls over me and heads south.  
“H-have a good day sir.” He says, nodding in a way of goodbye and shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks away. 

I sigh after him. ‘ _Partner goals._ ’ I think to myself before looking at the three guys laying around on the ground. I wonder if anyone saw us fighting or heard us, called the cops maybe? I check their vitals. Only the one I stabbed is dead, died from the sudden loss of blood, and the other two are unconscious. Maybe if the cops don’t find them before they wake up they’ll have learned their lesson and maybe straighten up. I drag them all and toss them into the dumpster I had shot at before. 

“Agh!” I complain as I stretch my shoulders, popping my back. “I’m too old to be throwing bodies into dumpsters.” I wipe my gloves on my thighs and pull out my phone, calling Weasel.  
“Wade?” He answers.  
“Ay’ Weas’,” I greet in turn. “I took care of the assholes that were kidnapping people for money. This a good time to drop by?”  
“As good a time as any.” He says. “I think there’s gonna’ be another fight tonight.” I snort.  
“There’s a fight every night.”  
“Yeah but I think the guy I bet on in the dead pool is gonna’ die this time.” I roll my eyes.  
“We can hope,” I say before hanging up and taking pictures of the bodies in the dumpster, saving it to my private photo roll, the one you have to have a four digit code to get into. It’s where I save my nudes and unicorn pictures. What can I say, I’m a man of variety. 

~~o -> 0

I put a few small, ripe-looking avocados in a small plastic bag, humming ‘stayin’ alive’ under my breath. I probably look odd shopping for wrinkly produce in my Deadpool suit at the Organics Market but like always, I ignore the odd looks people throw in my direction.  
“What are you doing?” A recognisable voice asks. I turn towards Spider-man, raising an eyebrow.  
“I’m donating my toenail clippings to St.Jude's.” I say. “What does it look like I’m doing?”  
“It looks like,” Spider-man snips. “You’re going grocery shopping in your super-suit alongside helpless old ladies.”  
“Oh them?” I ask, jutting my thumb in the direction of a few elderly woman over my shoulder. “They may not look it but they’re my partners in crime. Someone makes a move on me? Boom. We have em’ surrounded.” 

I can practically *feel* him rolling his eyes.  
“We can’t talk here,” He says, glancing back at a kid that sits in his grandma’s shopping cart, staring at Spider-man with wide eyes, a piece of licorice half in his mouth. Spider-man finger-waves at him.  
“A fan of yours?” I ask with a snort. Downside of being a superhero? Kids drool over you and claw at your legs, asking for pictures, interaction, and wearing a cheap imitation of your suit on halloween. I shudder.  
“Mhm.” Spider-man says, walking over to the kid and kneeling down by the cart to peek at the kid inside. “Hey kid,” He says gently.  
“Spider-man!” The kid squeaks.  
“Yeah,” Spider-man laughs. “You’re a strong kid huh? Are you gonna’ grow up to help people too?” The kid nods frantically. “That’s good.” Spider-man says, reaching in a gloved hand to ruffle his hair. “Stay in school.”

He then stands and proceeds to walk out of the store, crooking a finger at me over his shoulder as means of telling me to follow him.  
“‘Stay in school’?” I ask sarcastically. “Really? I didn’t even know people still said that anymore.” Spidey whirls on his heel to face me.  
“I’m going to the roof of that building,” He points to a short three-story building to my right. “We can’t talk with so many people around.” With that, he goes to the small space between the organics market and the laundromat next door and climbs the wall.  
“Freaking spider.” I mutter.  
[ _Probably very flexible too._ ] Yellow purrs.  
“Yeah.” I grunt in agreement, rounding around the back of the laundromat and hefting myself onto the ledge.

“Jeez you’re slow.” Spider-man complains when I finally reach the top.  
“Sorry I’m not a damn bug.” I say, rolling my shoulders back. He doesn’t reply, only fishes something small out of an unseen pocket in his suit. A hard drive. He holds it up for me to see.  
“Took a lot of effort to get this.” He informs, pressing it into my palm. “We can make a plan now or you can look through that,” He points to the hard drive in my hand. “And we can think of something later but since I broke in, they might move soon.” He shifts from foot to foot. I nod.  
“Just tell me what’s on it.” I demand.  
“Files.” He says and then does that tick-like shake of his head. “Like, personnel files. Information of people that they’ve killed or are planning on killing.”  
“Ah,” I voice, turning the hard drive over in my palm and looking down at it, wondering if Vanessa’s file is on it. “How do we take them down?” I ask.

He sighs. “I think I know where an attack is going to be. On a guy named Jeremy Holden. I don’t know who he is but, he must be important because I overheard the guy in charge said he personally wanted to take him out.” Webs says, leaning forward as he talks. “And then when I got that,” He points to the hard drive again, talking with his hands. “I found out his name, face, where and when they’re planning on either attacking or kidnapping him. If they’re kidnapping him to bring him to their boss, we can follow them and catch them off-guard. If not we can take them down where they stand.”  
“Ooh…” I express, rubbing my hands together. “I like the way you think Spidey.” He tilts his head but doesn’t say anything about the nick-name. “When are they planning to get on Jeremy?”  
“The third.” Spider-man says and I have to calculate what day it is for a few seconds. “Wait wait wait. In two days? And you were going to give me time to look over the files?” He shrugs.  
“I would’ve contacted you before-hand.” I narrow my eyes at him but leave the topic be.


	4. Ruh Roh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot happens. Spidey gets sick uh-oh.

### Peter’s P.O.V

###    
I crouch on the edge of the loose metal staircase that barely holds onto the side of the building. I watch as two man in black suits and sunglasses- how cliche can you get- lure an older guy into a secluded area and grab his shoulder, yanking a bag over his head. Like I thought, we’ll have to follow them back to get to the man in charge. 

“How are you up there Deadpool?” I ask into the bluetooth.  
“Just- fine.” He grunts and I snort to myself. I left him haphazardly webbed to a step higher up on the building. No of course I don’t want him to fall and could’ve just as easily sprayed my webbing to be more secure but this is my idea for a little fun on the job and I take great pleasure in it. 

Of course I don’t take pleasure in the innocent man being manhandled below but I’ve grown at least the slightest bit accustomed to seeing things like this.  
‘ _That’s sad._ ’ I think, leaning forward from my perch and silently webbing my way to the other building to watch the kidnappers get into an old, unsuspecting car parked at the curb.  
“They’re getting into a car.” I tell Deadpool. “I’m going to follow them and come back for you.”  
“To hell with that.” He complains. I ignore him and keep my eye on the red car as to not lose it in the heavy traffic of New York. 

They stop, not at the warehouse where I’ve spied on them but around the corner of a small motel, slamming the doors of the car as they get out and rounding to open the trunk. They lift the limp man, one at his feet and one with a hold on his arms.  
“Where are you?” Deadpool asks. I start. ‘ _I need to get used to that._ ’  
“Groundz motel?” I say, the statement coming out as a question as I try to read the fading letters on the front of the building.  
“Oh I know where that is.” Deadpool says. “I’ll be right behind you. What are they doing?”  
“Taking Jeremy into the Motel.” I answer.  
“I figured that.” Deadpool says. “I mean do you see any signs of the guy in charge?” I shake my head.  
“No,” I answer, watching the back door to the motel swing shut. 

I web to the side of the building, almost losing my footing before I stick to the wall, trying to see inside any of the windows and failing since they’re windows inside the actual rooms, probably in the living room, and the curtains are all drawn shut.  
“Deadpool,” I say. “I can’t see in. I’m going inside.”  
“No.” He answers. “Don’t go in alone.” I’m kind of flattered for a few moments that he cares when he adds, “Tony would kill me if I let you die.” I frown. Wow.  
“Well hurry the hell up.” I snap.  
“Touchy touchy.” He replies and my frown deepens. “I’m right around the corner see me?” I look up to see Deadpool standing at the edge of the parking lot, waving his arms around like an idiot.  
“Do you want us to be seen?” I ask, annoyed.  
“You nag worse than my ex girlfriend.” He says and I give an aggravated,  
“Ugh.”

I watch as he makes his way to the front of the building.  
“Oh so you’re just gonna glide right in?” I question.  
“I’m going to use my friendly Canadian charm and ask what floor our targets are on.” He tells me. “And then I’m going to use the elevator to get there because I just ran all the way here after *falling two stories* because *someone* stuck me to the wall.” I would laugh if the situation were different. “And then you’re going to bust a window and back me up. Deal?” I roll his words around in my head.  
“Okay,” I answer finally. 

I wait a few minutes that seem to take forever. I fidget, my legs starting to tire from holding me up so long.  
“Where are ya’ Spidey?” Deadpool asks. “Fourth floor. I could use some help.”  
“I’m here.” I say, shooting my web to stick on the fire escape and launching myself off the wall with my feet, swinging forward to crash through the fourth floor window. I roll into the living area, almost hitting the television. The room is empty. “What room?” I ask.  
“Shit-” Deadpool grunts. “I dunno’? LIke twenty-sixth or something.” 

As I enter into the hallway, I immediately hear where they are and follow the sounds of fighting. There are the two guys. Did I mention that besides the cliche suits they are *extremely* big? LIke six foot seven big. And Deadpool is keeping both of them at bay all the while keeping a gun to a man’s- I’m guessing the guy in charge- head. 

“The hell?” One grunts as I kick his back hard, sending him face planting.  
“Did you know that the smaller of the two in a fight, if he has enough momentum can easily take down his bigger opponent?” I question, pinning the guy to the ground. “That’s not to mention that I can manage about five thousand pounds max.”  
“A little too much talking Spidey.” Deadpool says between breaths as he throws a hard punch to the man’s gut.  
“Really?” I say, gesturing to the unconscious man webbed to the floor. “Because to me it’s a *great* way of distracting your opponent.” Deadpool doesn’t respond, too distracted by trying to keep track of the man in charge and the guy trying to knock his lights out.  
“I’ve got him.” I tell him, crouching in front of the older man. He’s got greying hair and leathery skin, mouth surrounded by smoker lines. He also looks a bit worn, like Deadpool had already got a chance to rough him up a bit before I got here. “Did you take his phone?” I ask Deadpool.  
“Yeah.” He answers. 

I press my forearm against his neck, keeping him against the wall he’s leant against. “Who are you?” I growl. The man coughs, a smile ghosting his lips.  
“Me?” He croaks. “I’m just an old man who wanted a bit of revenge.” I tighten my forearm against his throat.  
“Just like all the other people you murdered?” I question. “What do you do? What are you protecting?” 

“Move out of the way Webs.” I hear Deadpool say, gently pressing his palm into my shoulder and pushes. I take my arm off the old man’s neck and stand up, giving Deadpool a look. He nods and I take a step back. 

Deadpool snaps a hand out, gripping the old man’s throat and cutting off his airway. “Spidey over here plays easy, but I cheat. Now I’m going to let you breathe and you are going to tell me your name and anything else we need to know.” He gives a dark chuckle. “And you better not make me ask anything twice or you’ll really regret it. Nod if you understand.” The man nods, mouth flapping as he tries for air. Deadpool relaxes his grip and he gasps. 

“M-my name is Moses.” He wheezes when he’s able to speak. I recognise the name; the woman in the warehouse had mentioned him.  
“Last name.” Deadpool says.  
“Welski.” He coughs.  
“Who do you work for?” Moses eyes widen and he gives a small shake of his head.  
“I don’t know.”  
“Who. Do. You. _Work_. For?” Deadpool asks again, carefully enunciating every word. Moses winces.  
“I don’t know.” He breathes.  
“Alright how about we start with an easier question.” Deadpool says. “What is Honest Truth?” Moses’s mouth opens and shuts and he thinks how to answer.  
“We- we help people.” Deadpool tightens his grip on the man’s throat and he coughs again.  
“What kind of people!?” Moses begins to shake and my gut clenches. I hate seeing people scared.  
“I- I don’t know exactly!”  
“Sum it up for me.” Deadpool demands.  
“Bad people.” He answers. “Bad people with a lot of money. They hire us to kill people. They don’t give reasons they just hire our company!” Moses squirms in Deadpool’s grip.  
“Now I’ll ask again, _who do you work for_?” Moses shakes his head.  
“I can’t tell. They’ll kill me if I tell.”

Deadpool lets go of Moses’s neck and takes a step back, running hand over the top of his head and letting out a breath. I watch him, about to ask if I can try asking him when he suddenly punched Moses hard in the face. I gasp.  
“ **You killed my girl!** ” He shouts, fists balled. “You tell me who did it!” Blood oozes from Moses’s split lip but he cracks a smile, suddenly calm.  
“I don’t know.” He says quietly. “But I bet they enjoyed it.” Deadpool punches him again and then pulls the gun back from his belt and puts it his head.  
“ **Give me a name or I swear I’ll blow your fucking brains all over this carpet!** ” And that’s my cue.

I step in front of Deadpool’s pointed gun, guarding Moses with my body.  
“Move kid.” Deadpool growls and I shake my head.  
“Put the gun down.” I instruct, voice calm. “We aren’t killing anyone today.” Deadpool stiffens before letting the gun drop. I raise my hands and presses back on his shoulders, getting him to back up before I turn to Moses.

I knee him in the stomach.  
“Name.” I demand. Moses wheezes but shakes his head. I do it again. Tears leak from his eyes. “ _Name_.” No answer. I do it third time and he retches.  
“Calvin Fillmore.” He breathes. I pause and glance at Deadpool. He nods and I back off.  
“See how easy that was?” I huff.  
“I’ll be dead soon now.” Moses answers.  
“Good fucking riddance.” Deadpool mutters, throwing a stool from a bar at the window and breaking it. “Now it’s time to jet.”  
As Deadpool climbs out of the window, I feel something sting the back of my leg. When I glance back I see Moses unconscious and I give an, “Ew,” and raise one foot to scratch the back of my calf. “Damn bugs.” 

~~~

“I should’ve fucking killed him.” I hear Deadpool mutter beside me. We’re standing on the curb, about to flag down a cab to take to Tony’s tower. Yes, I’m still in my suit and yes, I could easily web there. But I feel exhausted and Deadpool offered so why not. I don’t reply, swaying slightly on my feet as Deadpool flags down a cab. It flies right by, ignoring us. 

Something warm and thick seeps down my face. I take a second to process the feeling before a move and hand to my face. Deadpool glances at me.  
“You get hit?” He asks. I shrug, moving my fingertips to my face and feeling the blood being sopped up by my mask. “Might wanna’ move your mask before you suffocate.  
“Can’t.” I say, pulling at the material around my nose and mouth with one hand and pinching the bridge of my nose with the other. Deadpool makes and noise in his throat and pulls out a small, absorbent rag from his belt. Blood drips onto the pavement as I take it, trying to soak some of the blood from my mask. 

“Nosebleeds are some nasty business.” Deadpool voices. My stomach clenches and I’m pulling up my mask, briefly forgetting my past worry of him recognising my mouth and retching. Deadpool dances out of the way.  
“Whoa kid, not the boots- oh shit.” He starts and then catches himself once he sees blood dribble past my lips. “Shitshitshit did you get stabbed? Hows your healing factor?” I spat blood out on the ground, hands on my knees, back to Deadpool. 

“Healing factor is shit compared to yours.” I say. “And I didn’t get hurt so I dunno why-” I retch again and this time, when Deadpool hails a taxi they stop. Deadpool’s arms scoop me up, one arm under my knees and the other by my shoulders.  
“Do you even eat?” He questions as he lays me on the back seats of the taxi. “Warning: He may throw up.” He says to the cab driver, giving him directions. I cup my hands under my nose, trying to catch the steady drizzle of blood.

“Okay kid,” Deadpool says, turning to me. “I think you have a head injury and I have to check so,” He reaches for my collar and my hands fly up to try to stop him. With me being weak he easily overpowers me, grabbing my wrist with a tight fist as he pulls my mask over my head. It’s now much easier to breathe and I gasp. He pauses. “Oh,” He breathes. “You really are just a kid.” ‘*Does he not recognise me?*’ I wonder as his fingers tangle in my hair and lightly massages over my scalp, feeling for head injuries. 

“Step on it!” He barks to the driver. I peer at him through heavy lidded eyes.  
“You gotta’ call-” I cough, cutting myself off and he nods, pulling out his cell phone.  
“I know.” I close my eyes and after a few seconds he says, “Tony? Spider-man’s hurt. He’s losing a lot of blood and I think it’s something internal. We’re on our way to the tower now, have some people out front to get him.”  
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” The cab driver asks.  
“No,” Deadpool says quietly, fitting a gloved hand under my head to keep it elevated and gently massaging behind my ears with his thumb and forefinger. 

My throat feels raw and hurts especially bad when I try to swallow around blood. It’s hard to breathe but my super strong body keeps pulling air in. I barely notice as the taxi stops and Deadpool pulls his hand away, getting out of the car and slamming his door shut. I hear voices talking outside, sounding frantic. The door behind me opens and strong arms catch me, gently pulling me from the car and setting me on a stretcher. I can’t really remember what happens after that.


	5. Tony, reruns and whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade feels a little more than people give him credit for.

### Wade WIlson’s P.O.V

###    
“I should’ve fucking killed him,” I mutter, shifting my feet as I wave at a taxi. Of course, it flies right by, not even slowing in the slightest. I hear Spidey gasp and I glance over. “Ooh.” I sound, grabbing a (hopefully) clean rag from my belt and handing it to him. “Nosebleeds are some nasty business.” I say.  
[ _Can he breathe okay with his mask on?_ ]  
( _It’s just a nosebleed, he’ll be alright._ ) White says just as Spider-man retches onto the pavement. 

“Whoa kid,” I warn, stepping out of the way. “Not the boots- oh shit.” I say, leaning down to see the thick bloody saliva dribble past Spidey’s lips. “Shitshitshit. Did you get stabbed?” I ask, mind racing, trying to remember if he did but the fighting is all kind of a blur. “How’s your healing factor?” He pauses, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Healing factor is shit compared to yours.” He says. “And I didn’t get hurt so I dunno why-” He retches again and this time, when I wave for a taxi they stop. I scoop him up very easily, bracing one hand under him and the other at his back.  
[ _Not too surprising since he’s practically skin and bones._ ]  
( _That’s exaggerating._ )  
[ _Yeah his ass is definitely more than skin and bones._ ]  
“Do you even eat?” I ask as I lay him gently on the back seats of the taxi. “Warning: He may throw up.” I say with a glance at the driver, before instructing him to drive to the Avengers tower. Spider-man cups a hand by his face to catch the blood seeping out of his mask. 

“Okay kid,” I say, facing Webs. “I think you have a head injury and I have to check so,” I go to take off his mask and he puts up a weak attempt to stop me. I snap out a hand and grip his wrist, pulling it against the seat of the cab and pulling up his mask with the other. He gasps. “Oh,” I say, realization washing over me.  
[ _It’s the beautiful kid from the alley._ ]  
( _No wonder he could kick ass._ )  
“You really are just a kid.” I say gently, moving a hand to his head and threading my fingers through his hair. It’s soft and light brown. Sort of a mousy color. I carefully move my fingers along his scalp, searching for any blood or cuts, gashes etc. I don’t feel anything out of place. 

“Step on it!” I snap to the driver.  
“You gotta’ call-” Spidey starts and coughs. I hush him, pulling out my phone and going under my recent calls.  
“I know.” I tell him. After it rings a few times, a little bubble of panic grows in my chest. ‘ _He better answer the goddamn phone-_ ’  
“Hello?” Tony answers.  
“Tony?” I say. “Spider-man’s hurt. He’s losing a lot of blood and I think it’s something internal. We’re on our way to the tower now, have some people out front to get him.”  
“Get here as quick as you can.” He tells me. Like that isn’t fucking obvious.  
“Shouldn’t we take him to the hospital?” The cab driver asks.  
“No,” I mumble.  
[ _Tony and the people he keeps at his tower are probably better than a hospital._ ] Yellow informs and I nod, fitting a hand under the back of Spider-man’s head, tilting up so it’s easier for him to breathe. He makes a noise and I massage the sides of his skull to soothe him. 

The cab comes to a stop outside the main doors to the tower and I get out of the car, about to round to the other side and get Spider-man but I spot Tony and EMT people already on it, pulling him out and setting him on a stretcher. One of them feel his pulse while another searches his scalp for injuries, all the while wheeling him into the building.  
“What happened,” Tony demands, sounding worried and I little panicked as he strides swiftly up to me. “I told you to keep an eye on the kid.”  
“I did, I did.” I defend myself. “But we were about to come back here and he just got a nosebleed out of nowhere. It all went shitways from there.” Tony pauses.  
“Was he shot with anything?” He asks.  
“What?” I reply.  
“Was he shot with something small?” He further explains. “Did any of the people there have any strange weapons?” I think for a moment. I actually remember something…  
( _Moses had-_ )  
“A guy had a small gun.” I pipe up. “It was silver and he kept it in his jacket but it didn’t look like a gun really.” Tony looks slightly relieved but curses and jogs into the tower, pressing his ear with a finger and saying,  
“Shoot him with a stabilizer, make sure he’s out and give him H2 folicide.” I follow quickly behind him.  
“What is it?” I ask. “What’s wrong with him?”  
“I think they might’ve shot him with a serum that attacks your bodily tissue. It starts with the weaker, internal tissue and spreads. You brought him here quickly so if it’s only inflamed the nasal cavity and throat he should be okay within a few days but if it took a bit,” He shoots me a look. “Or they created something faster since I last dealt with this, then I don’t know if he’ll recover.” 

I want to relax a tad because one part of me really believes that I brought him here as soon as possible and quickly, but the other more paranoid part of me is thinking, ‘ _Why didn’t I notice sooner?_ ’ 

We walk into the elevator and ride it to the fifth floor.  
“Wait here.” Tony says before turning and then pauses. “Actually just go home. We’re taking care of him.”  
“But-” I start and he cuts me off.  
“Why do you care?” He says, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. I falter.  
“Because surprisingly I’m not that bad of a guy and he’s a good kid.” I snark. He arches an eyebrow.  
“Well I have to care for him.” He says slowly, sounding suspicious. “He’s going to freak out when he remember you know his identity and I don’t know when he’ll recover. It’d be best for you to leave.” I sigh and turn towards the elevator without further protest. 

-> ~~o -> 0

When I get home, I pull my little cam recorder I keep in the collar of my suit from the it’s spot embedded in the leather. As much as I may act like it, I’m not stupid. I switch the data I’ve collected from today over to a hard drive and plug it into my old windows laptop. ’ _It does what I need it to alright?_ ’  
I pause it at the slightly fuzzy picture of Spider-Man’s face. I know Tony Stark won’t give me his name so I take it upon myself to run a face recognition on him. As the computer hums and pictures start flying on and off of the screen in headache-causing flashes,  
[ _Epilepsy!_ ] I snort and go into the kitchen to grab an icecream bar before sitting back down in front of my comp. 

I finish my ice cream in two bites and wipe my hands on my suit as I lean forward, reading the name on the screen as ‘Peter Parker’.  
“Huh,” I say to myself as I swallow. He has a cute name. Born in New York. He looks British though.  
‘ _Lol._ ’ He’s got dark hair and eyes, pale skin. All the stuff I saw before. He looks younger in this picture too. Probably his license photo or a school picture. He’s got a wide smile and I think back to his voice. In the suit it was kind of muffled but I could tell it was high-pitched. WIth the mask off he really sounds like a middle schooler.  
[ _Think of the cute moans he could make_ ] I grunt in agreement and squint at his age. Barely twenty.  
( _I know in Civil War Spider-man is supposed to be like 15 but listen. Wade Wilson isn’t a pervert okay. He’s at least go to be legal._ ) I pause.  
“What?” I ask the box.  
( _Don’t worry about it._ ) It replies and I shrug. 

Even though I sit down and try to watch a rerun of ‘Impractical Jokers’ I find myself not being able to focus on Sal’s obnoxious laughter. I can’t help but be worried over the kid. I mean what if he’s really hurt? Finally I lumber out of my lay-z-boy and strip out of my suit. I hadn’t wanted to take it off before because I felt like I was cut somewhere and I hadn’t felt like dealing with it right then. Blood spills down my leg once my suit is peeled off but the cut or stab wound I had had is already healed. 

I take a careful sniff of my suit and decide it’s time to wash it. I swipe a whiskey bottle I keep half full in the cabinet under the sink and take a long swig.  
“Drink away the pain.” I sigh to myself, sliding on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, pulling the gray hood over my head. The cotton feels nice on my bald head and I do a weird little purr thing under my breath.  
( _God._ )  
[ _You really need to get laid._ ] I snort but a picture of a certain little Spidey and his ass in spandex pops into my head.

As I slip my feet into my worn-out sketcher tennis shoes, I take another sip from the whiskey bottle before setting it on the bar. I’m too lazy to- god forbid- *lean down* and pull the backs of my shoes over my heel so I just squish down the backs of them as I walk downstairs, a small round laundry basket in my hands. 

In the basement of the apartment complex is the dirty musky laundry room. I press twelve quarters into the machine. Yes, twelve. It’s ridiculous I know but I don’t have time to run down the street to the laundromat and save eight quarters. Well actually I do but I’m too lazy. 

I press my clothes into the machine and pour the cleaner in its designated slot. On a washer machine that someone else is using sits a blue bottle of fabric softener, a friendly looking teddy bear on its’ front.  
“Mm,” I hum happily. “Looks like I’m going to smell like ‘Purple Blossom’ next time I’m killing somebody.”  
[ _Maybe they’ll die happier that way._ ] Yellow adds as I pour a generous amount into the machine before letting the lid slam shut and hitting the button with my hip. ‘ _I know I may seem carefree but I’m really just going through the motions._ ’ That sudden thought causes something heavy to drop in my stomach and I make my way back up to my apartment, grabbing the bottle off the bar as I shut and lock my door and taking another long sip, the feeling in my stomach growing warm.

I then take a hot shower- like scalding because it’s the only temperature of hot I can feel- before collapsing back into my lay-z-boy, turning on the t.v., drinking my whiskey, and worrying over that damn kid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I might post the next chapter a little faster if I get a lot of comments so be generous~


	6. Full Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter wakes up in the Avengers tower, he talks to Tony, Steve and Sam are featured! Welcome back chocolatechino. (comment if you know who calls him that).

### Peter's P.O.V

I crack my eyes open to the sound of a steady electronic beeping and the smell of sterile wipes. I groan in the back of my throat and cover my eyes with my forearm in an attempt to block out the bright fluorescent lights. After a few moments my brain suddenly catches up and everything is processed. I shoot to a sitting position, the beeping increasing in speed.  
‘ _Where am I?_ ’ My breathing is unsteady as I try to recall the last thing I remember. I was- catching a cab with Deadpool? Most everything else is a blur after that but I remember being sick.  
“Hello?” I decide to call out to the hallway that’s outside of my crisp white hospital room. Only a few moments pass before a friendly male nurse and Tony Stark walk into the room. I relax and let out a breath. “Tony.” I say and he gives one of those pleasant but tight smiles of his.  
“Hi Peter.” He greets.  
“W-what happened?” I stammer. “Why am I here?” Tony lets out a slow breath, his cheeks puffing up as he exhales.  
“Well you could’ve died.” He says casually, leaning against the desk on the far side of the room. My heart thumps uncomfortably hard but, I’m used to being in danger so I just give a slow nod of my head. “A poison that attacks your internal tissue- Metacine -but you got here in time where as no real damage was done.” He explains. “That and your slightly-above-average healing factor kicked in.”

 

I crack a half smile as I glance over at him with worried eyes, leaning back against the headboard of the hospital bed.  
“How did I get here?”  
“Oh, that,” Tony says, crossing his arms over his chest and giving his shoulders a small shrug. “Deadpool brought you here. He did a good job of keeping you intact.” Ashamed, my face gets hot. An image of Deadpool walking up to the Stark tower with an unconscious me pops into my brain. Then panis floods my gut, hot and sudden as I jerk up to my knees on the edge of the bed.  
“Did he see my face?!” Tony huffs.  
“I’m not happy about it either kid. Deadpool is bad news but,” He holds up a finger as I groan and rub a hand over my face.  
‘I’m SUCH an idiot.’ I think to myself as he says,  
“He knows what’s comin’ to him if he gets you in any danger. He brought you back safely and in time for me to help you. Whether I like it or not he’s in this whole super-hero business too so I’m pretty sure it’s fine. You’re fine.” Tony usually knows what to say to calm my nerves, my senses and this time is no different. I swallow hard, still on edge but I sink back down under the covers, folding my arms over my stomach and hesitantly question:  
“Well… how long do I have to stay here?”  
“Now that you’re awake we’re going to run a few tests and as long as everything seems well then you’ll be able to leave in twenty-four hours.” He answers. I nod jerkily before blurting,  
“O-oh. Thank you so much Mr.Stark.” He smiles warmly at me as he starts for the doorway.  
“It’s no problem Peter. All I ask in return is for you to say hi to your Aunt for me.” He winks as he steps out of sight and I roll my eyes.

 

‘ _Speaking of Aunt May I think she was supposed to come over for dinner…_ ’ I wonder to myself, glancing about the room.  
“Oh fuck-” I say suddenly, patting myself down in search for my phone, not feeling it on my person and catching something red and rumpled lying on a chair to my right and diving for it, wincing as my sore muscles twist oddly and grabbing my phone out of the hidden pocket stitched to the inside of my suit. 

 

There are three missed calls but all from earlier yesterday and I call her back.  
“Hello?” Her voice answers.  
“Aunt May?” I say cautiously and before I can say anything else Aunt May says,  
“Peter, don’t worry about it sweetie it’s fine.” I pause.  
“Huh?”  
“Mr.Stark called me yesterday and told me what happened. It’s fine. You did a good job putting your studies first.” I nod slowly.  
“Okay.” I breathe, relieved.  
‘ _Thank you Tony!_ ’  
“Of course. We can just reschedule dinner for another night.” I wince as guilt pools in my belly. She had probably been cooking all day and tending to the stew/broth to get it just the way I like it, showing up to my apartment, getting worried when I didn’t show up and then finally getting a call from Tony. Then she probably went home, ate a small serving of the food she made for me and put he rest in a tupperware. 

I sigh into the receiver and close my eyes for a minute.  
“No Aunt May, I’ll come to your house sometime this week and eat the leftovers you made for me okay?”  
“Oh it’s really no trouble-” She starts but I gently cut her off.  
“I’d love to come over. I haven’t visited the house in a while.”  
“Okay then.” She chirps.  
“I’ll talk to you soon.” I say.  
“Yes yes, stay safe Peter.”  
“ _Click_ ”

 

She’s just the sweetest lady I know. She basically raised me and does all she can to help me. With my rent and school. Yet I manage to do this kind of thing to her all of the time. Worrying her and canceling our plans. I blame it on my scholarship and my work with Tony Stark. I low-key feel like crying but I haven’t cried in a long time and I’m not gonna’ start now so instead I just scrub a hand over my face. 

 

~~~ 

 

I think I fell asleep because when I wake up Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers are gently knocking at the doorway.  
“Aye Champ,” Steve greets, stepping inside once he sees I’m awake. “How’re you feeling?”  
“Well he’s on an assignment with Deadpool so I’d guess not good.” Sam clips and I give a sudden bark of a laugh. Steve tries to shoot him a mock glare but his lips twitch up into a smile anyways. They just think I look through the information Deadpool gets. They dunno I _actually_ actually work with him.  
“Yeah,” I agree. “He’s somethin’ else. But I’m fine. Tony says I’ll be able to leave tomorrow.”  
Steve nods and asks,  
“You need anything? Have they brought you food yet?” Sam nods enthusiastically.  
“They’re serving these little muffin things in the cafe right now and they are _bomb_.” He does this grunt and his eyes roll back into his head when he says ‘bomb’. Steve snorts but nods in agreement.  
“Humm,” I say, readjusting myself into a sitting position. “Can I go with you guys?” They share a glance.  
“Are you allowed up?” Steve asks and Sam rolls his eyes.  
“C’mon Steve, this kid’s Tony’s nephew. I’m sure he can take care of himself.” He says, reiterating himself by clapping a hand onto my shoulder and I nod along to his words, remembering Tony’s excuse as to why he knows me in order to cover up my Spider-man identity.  
“I-I’m just a little sore.” I add and Steve gives a pause before nodding reluctantly. At that, I stand from the bed and glance down at myself, suddenly very grateful Tony had my clothes I had been wearing under my spidey suit cleaned and put back on my body. I’m a little embarrassed that someone had to dress me but it was a nurse and that’s they’re job so.

 

I bounce on the balls of my feet and smile, leaning forward. Steve puts a hand on my shoulder.  
“Good to see ya’ Pete.” He voices as we walk out of the room.  
“Yeah,” Sam says, “Tony didn’t even tell us you were here.” Steve snorts. And answers my unasked question.  
“Pepper mentioned it earlier at the front desk.”  
“Oh.” I say understandingly. 

 

Steve leans forward to press the button to call the elevator.  
“W-what are you guys working on right now?” I ask to break the comfortable silence.  
“Well I am working on a highly important assignment helping Nick and Tony with the new flight equipment they’re developing for future weapons.”  
“Sick!” I voice and he grins as I look to Steve.  
“I’m working with Natasha and Clint on a so-called cult somewhere off the east coast that’s broken into some of the government's firewalls.” My jaw drops a bit.  
“Jeez.” I say. “Sounds important.” He nods as the elevator stops on the sixteenth floor and he steps out.  
“That’s what I’m here for.”

 

The scent of food hits my nose.  
“Ah~” I vocalize after inhaling the smell as we enter the cafe. The only other people inside are a few S.H.E.I.L.D. agents sitting at a round table.  
“ **Hello Steve. Sam. Peter.** ” JARVIS greets in turn as we step up to the counter.  
“Hey man,” Sam answers. “How about an omelet and a protein shake.”  
“ **Yes.** ” JARVIS agrees.  
“And uh, I’ll take two of the lunch special subs and uh, just water is fine.” Sam raises an eyebrow at him.  
“You taking half of that to Barnes or are you planning on consuming double the calories? It'll go straight to your hips you know.” He whispers. Steve ignores him and turns to me.  
“And what do you want Peter?”  
“Muffin.” I say quickly and I blush, embarrassed as Steve chuckles and JARVIS asks,  
“ **What kind of muffin do you prefer Peter?** ”  
“Banana?” I say, my voice lifting at the end and sounding like a question.  
“ **Of course.** ” JARVIS replies. “ **Anything to drink?** ”  
“Chocolate milk?”  
“ **Of course.** ” JARVIS answers and Steve flashes a smile at me while Sam laughs.  
“You’re a good kid.” He says and I humbly duck my head, feeling embarrassed by all of their kind words and gentle eyes.  
“Thanks,” I say sheepishly as I scratch my stomach- a nervous habit of mine, and my shirt lifts, exposing my hip to the crisp air conditioning. 

 

Sam walks me back to my room, and actually Steve was going to too but he stopped before we got on the elevators and pressed the other button to go down. Sam gave him a pointed look before sighing and shaking his head.  
“Just cause’ he’s allowed to help on assignments doesn’t mean you need to put all your trust in im’ Steve.” Steve just shrugged and said as a reply:  
“They don’t feed him enough.” He then draped his arm over my shoulders in a quick hug before pulling away. “Take care of yourself Pete.” I responded with a small nod and a smile.

 

Without Steve the ride up the elevator was only a tad awkward before Sam asked me about school, what classes I’m taking , what major I had decided on ect, ect. They were both good guys and not to mention, celebrities, heroes, people that millions of other people looked to for guidance and leadership. And little Peter Parker, college student, newspaper photographer, was getting to spend time with them. Even though I should be pretty used to it by now, even though I know technically I belong with them, it still seems kind of surreal to me. LIke it hasn’t quite processed. I wonder if people would believe me if I told them of my close encounters with the Avengers or if they would think I was bullshitting to look cool. Probably the latter. 

 

~~~

 

“ _Parker!_ ” Jameson barks as I hesitantly step into his office, making me flinch away. I can face bad guys. Muggers, gangs, gangbangers, gamblers, people who participate in violence, all of the kinds and hardly get my heart rate up. But my boss? Hell to the no thanks. I’d rather face a guy with a gun than his wrath. I think it’s maybe because he makes me feel so helpless. I try my best in getting pictures he’ll like, turn them in by the deadline and still it seems he always has something to yell at me for and I can’t do anything about it. I speak up and I get fired, I sabotage him and there’s the chance he could find out who did it and bam, fired. Fired, fired, fired. But honestly, Jameson likes me I think. He just has some serious anger management problems. 

 

“Y-yes sir?” I ask timidly. Jameson inclines his head, gesturing for me to come closer. I shut the door behind me and sit in the chair in front of his desk.  
“What is this?” He demands, pushing pictures towards me.  
“Spider-man, sir.” I answer. He gives me a look. The picture is from the window sill where I had webbed my phone. Me- or Spider-man, is caught by the picture mid back flip. I thought it looked pretty cool. The angle is a little weird but it was kind of too late to change it by the time I was at home in bed at two in the morning. 

 

“And what’s he doin’? Fighting crime?” He shakes his head. “I told you I want you to catch him off-guard. Not when he’s looking camera-ready. We need the public to see him for who he really is! A criminal.” My throat tightens. “A vigilante.” He adds. "If you could get him with his mask off actually that would be great.” I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes as I say,  
“He helps people.”  
“Helps people? Ha!” Jameson cackles, pushing his chair back and standing up. “I need some juicy material Parker! And this,” He gestures to the picture on the desk. “Is not that.” I let out a breath.  
“Yes sir.” I reply and he pauses, studying me for a moment.  
“You’re a good kid Parker, I just need more effort outta’ you! Now go on, get out of my office. I don’t got all damn day.” I nod quickly before standing and exiting his office, my heart thundering in my chest. 

 

~~~

 

‘ _Okayy…_ ’ I think to myself as I shoot from my webslinger, swinging from building to building. I need to look like a criminal, a vigilante in a picture. ‘ _But I’m not a criminal so how the fuck am I supposed to look like one?_ ’ 

 

I land on the rooftop of an apartment complex and stick my phone above the top apartment’s window along the side of the building. I set it on a timer to take twelve photos before shooting my web to the building across from the one I’m standing on and swinging in the camera's frame. I do a uturn and come back around for the second round of pictures and land back on the roof of the building that my phone’s stuck to. I tear the webbing off my phone and pluck the stray pieces from the edges of it’s case as I flip through the pictures. I got three good ones. Spider-man isn’t fighting anyone but honestly, Jameson could whirl the story that goes along with these pictures practically any way he wants. 

 

I honestly feel bad. Like I’m letting Spider-man down. So myself I guess. But I need to eat. Otherwise I won’t have a Spider-man to let down. A bitter laugh rises in my throat like bile but before it can bubble past my lips the hair on the back of my neck stands up and I spin around on my heels. 

 

“ _God!_ ” I exclaim. “You scared me.” I press my hand into my palm as Deadpool gives a wicked laugh.  
“I know,” He says. “It’s my charm and good looks that scare people away.” I glare at him but laugh a little anyways just because what he says makes like, no sense. The wind brushes my hair into my eyes and my heart jumps as I remember I don’t have my mask on, my hands darting to my face. “I already know your super secret hidden identity remember Petey?” He says and my heart calms a bit as I nod jerkily. 

 

It dawns on me that I haven’t told him my name but, I guess Tony could have told him. I let out a small breathy laugh.  
“A-an identity for an identity?” 

 

I meant it as a joke, saying it more to myself than anything, but Deadpool shrugs.  
“My face ain’t pretty like yours Pete,” He warns and my eyebrows pinch together. “I’m all scarred up.” I pause, sparked curiosity drawing my eyes to him; glancing at his hands for any exposed skin. Of course I see none because of his gloves. 

 

Finally I shrug, curiosity getting the best of me, but I lower my gaze back to the roof. Because I’m a wuss when it comes to facing people or talking. He reaches a hand behind his head to lift up his mask, the muscles in his arms taut.  
‘ _Why am I noticing that?_ ’ I wonder to myself as my cheeks warm. 

 

I have to choke down the small exclamation of ‘ _oh,_ ’, as he pulls off his mask. His skin is a creamy color, scars covering every inch of his skin. Some of the newly healing ones even look a little raw or pink. I should be a little scared or grossed or weirded out but surprisingly I’m not. Under all the marks and blemishes on his skin, there’s still a strong nose, sharp jawline, and kind, expressive brown eyes.  
“How are you feeling?” He asks in a low voice. My eyebrows pinch together.  
“Oh. I’m completely fine. I develope tissue pretty fast so I’m just a little sore.” He nods kind of slowly, as if reassuring himself that nothing is wrong. 

 

After a moment I hear myself asking,  
“W-what’s uhm, what’s your name?” His mouth lifts into a smile, eyes warm, previous expression wiped from his face. My breath stutters, nerves flooding my stomach and making me feel nauseous.  
“Wade.”  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I get a lot of hit/kudos/comments the second chapter will come sooner ;) thanks for reading.


	7. Teleporting and Matt Murdock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool talks about Peter's ass, makes a deal with Weasel and stitches Matty up. I mean what? Who's Matty???! I obviously said Daredevil.

### Wade Wilson’s P.O.V.

 

[ _Webslinger 5-o'clock._ ] Yellow informs me. I hum happily as I look up. And there he is, swinging from my apartment building to the next and then turning back to land on my roof again.  
( _What’s he doing?_ ) I shrug, deciding I don’t really care as I head back into my complex and ride the elevator up to the rooftop. 

 

He doesn’t notice me at first, standing straight, his mask off, hair wild, attention focused on his phone in his hands as he plucks off what looks like his webbing from the case. I’m about to clear my throat to make my presence known but-  
( _Oh my that ass._ ) I admire his behind. You could definitely bounce a quarter off that ass. It’s muscular, but also round and tight and- He whirls around on his heel. 

 

“ _God!_ ” He gasps, his voice high.  
[ _ **God** is right._ ] Yellow moans the word ‘god’.  
“You scared me.” He explains, almost as an afterthought. Like I didn’t know. It’s cute.  
“I know,” I start, a little caught off-guard with how my heart warms. “It’s my charm and good looks that scare people away.” His face starts to look annoyed but then it relaxes as he huffs out a laugh instead. Suddenly his hands move to his face and his eyes widen, the smile falling from his lips.  
“I already know you’re super secret hidden identity remember Petey?” I drawl. He’s so easy to read my god. His hands slowly lower to his sides and grip at his hips. He has all these jerky little odd nervous habits that are actually hella’ cute.  
“A-an identity for an identity?” He says, his voice light, kind of breathy and quiet, like he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. I have to keep myself from rolling my head back and groaning from half arousal, half aggravation.  
‘ _This kid doesn’t even know what he’s doing to me._ ’  
“My face ain’t pretty like yours Pete,” I warn, standing stalk still. “I’m all scarred up.” He pauses. Usually people would respond with stuff like,  
‘Oh I’m sure it’s not that bad.’ or, ‘It’s not your fault you’re scarred,’ but Peter just shrugs timidly, his eyes focused on a spot of the rooftop. 

 

I move to grab the back of my mask. Honestly by this point I’m not even embarrassed of it. If people don’t like it then they can fuck off. It’s not like I chose to look like this. If I lose Webhead than he’s just another person to add to the list. 

 

I can’t help but notice how his eyes dart to me a few times as I take an especially long time to remove my mask, smirking to myself when his embarrassed expression confirms my suspicions of him checking me out. Cool New York air hits my head and neck once I’ve pulled off my mask. 

 

His mouth takes on a perfect ‘O’ shape for a moment but, he doesn’t look disgusted or scared so I take that as a good sign. I glance over at him, the worry I had held for him the last day and a half crashing over me.  
“How are you feeling?” I ask, voice kind of low and throaty from emotion. He gets a little line between his eyebrows for a second.  
“Oh. I’m completely fine. I develope tissue pretty fast so I’m just a little sore.” I let out a small breath of relief.  
[ _Why don’t you just come onto him?_ ] Yellow questions and I tilt my head, rolling that sentence around in my head for a moment.  
‘ _I want him to trust me._ ’ I answer finally just as Peter blurts, 

 

“W-what’s your name?” I smile at him, barely hesitating as I answer:  
“Wade.” His shoulders stiffen a bit and his cheeks take a second to flush with colour. This honestly just makes me smile wider, eyes crinkling at the corners and he stutters profusely as he says,  
“N-nice to meet you W-wade.” I stride forward, closing the distance between us and holding out my hand. He tentatively lifts his hand to shake mine, his grip firm, but loosening as I lean in close.  
“Nice to meet _you_ Peter.” He flinches slightly but not because he’s afraid, just startled and his cheeks turn another shade of pink. I feel myself smirk as I lean back, something I hide by pulling my mask back over my head.  
“So,” He says after a moment, taking a deep shuddering breath. “What have you found out about Honest Truth? Or,” He pauses. “Calvin Fillmore?” I nod.  
“Yeah that’s his name. I did a little research last night and uh, he’s an old acquaintance of mine.”  
( _Well considering that he murdered Vanessa I wouldn’t consider him an acquaintance._ ) White points out, causing a growl to rise in my throat that I force back down, not wanting to scare the jumpy spider. 

Peter tilts his head, eyebrows drawn together, mouth parted in question.  
“What do you mean by ‘acquaintance’?” I rub a hand over the back of my head.  
“I _mean_... He used to be a higher-up in the drug business. With a lot of guys working to sell it for him and got it from a reliable seller. The good stuff. Pure but, he began putting this stuff in it that either wiped people's brains completely, making them compliant, where they listened and did anything he asked them to or it killed them.” I shrug. “I took down their whole thing they had going on a while back. Seven years ago or so. I’m guessing he had Vanessa taken out for revenge. I dunno’ if he’s in business anymore.”

 

Peter pauses. “Do you know where he is?” He asks after a moment and I give a shake of my head.  
“No but I’m sure I could find out.” He should know what goes around comes around.” Peter watches me, his mask clutched in his fingers.  
“But,” He says slowly. “If he’s not hurting anyone then there’s no need to go looking for him. We need to take out Honest Truth. They’re still hurting people. They’re hired to hurt people-”  
“Exactly,” I cut in. “They’re assassins. There’s always assassins. Just because we take out an office full of them doesn’t mean they’ll be no more assassins period. There’ll always assassins. Taking them out is pointless.”  
“At least it’ll be less killers in New York.” He says, tone defensive. “The city that I’m responsible for. The city that I protect. There’ll be less that I have to deal with.”  
“Oh please, there’ll always be people to replace them.” I blurt, exasperated.  
“But you don’t know that for sure,” He tries. “I don’t know that for sure. That’s why we have to take their company and facility down. We need to take all of their information, so they have nothing left to go on, turn their information into the police as proof, and disable them. Take their weapons, their building.” His jaw is set in a firm line, determination and stubbornness aimed at me in his brown irises. 

I let out a breath and raise my hands in a ‘I give up’ gesture.  
“You’re somethin’ else kid.” I tell him. “If I help you with this, you’ll keep quiet to Tony about me getting revenge on Fillmore.” He shifts from foot to foot. He had to know that I was and am going to track down that fucker and give him what he should have gotten years ago. I also know that he knows that mission he just decided on is a big mission. A mission he’ll probably need help with.  
[ _He’s got the avengers to help him probably._ ] White informs me.  
‘ _Probably._ ’ I agree. Maybe he doesn’t think they’ll help him with this. Just that same as I wouldn’t of even considered agreeing if I didn’t A) want to be able to freely kill the shit out of Calvin and B) Didn’t think that he was just going to go off on his own anyway and take on something too big for him to handle. 

After his gaze travels all over the rooftop and he bites his lip enough to be distracting, he finally agress to my terms with a quiet,  
“Deal.” I grin behind my mask.  
“Well Webhead,” I tease, holding back a snicker when he glares. “You gotta’ figure out the whole plan thingy mabob right? I think I’ll head back home and oh, I’d give you my number if I could but,” I gesture to my suit as a way of telling him I don’t have an pen or paper. “No pockets.” He rolls his eyes as he presses his hand into a pocket he evidently has in the side of his suit and pulls out his phone.  
( _What a sassy little bugger._ )  
[ _He’s SO asking for it._ ]  
“Here,” He says, pulling me from my head. “Just type your contact in.” 

 

I pluck his phone from his fingers and punch my number into his phone, setting my contact name as ‘Bae <3’ before locking his screen and handing it back to him. Not waiting for him to get the chance to look at his new contact, I jump off the side of the roof, not in the mood to climb down. My right shin breaks and my ankle gives a horrible crunching sound.  
“Shit!” I yell. “That was not cool!”  
( _Think before you leap._ )  
“Shaddup.” I snarl, snapping my ankle back into place and leaning back against the wall, waiting for my shin to heal. I glance up to see Spidey peering over the side of the building, about six stories up. When he sees me looking his head darts back over the side, disappearing from sight. I huff out a laugh.  
[ _Cute kid._ ]  
“Yeah,” I agree out loud, wincing as my shin gives a deep cracking sound as it suddenly seals the bone back together. I stand away from the wall and shake out my limbs before testing my leg.  
( _I hope nobody heard you fall and curse._ )  
[ _Just because you’re around the back of the building doesn’t mean you’re invisible._ ]  
( _Or that people are deaf._ ) 

 

I wave them off. “Yeah, yeah. Shut it already.” They quiet reluctantly and I make my way to the busy road to hail a cab, blood from breaking my leg drying against my calf. 

 

~~o -> 0

 

“Hey Weasel,” I greet, sliding into a stool seated at the bar.  
“Hey Wade.” He replies awkwardly as he leans down below the counter. Let’s get real, pretty much everything Weasel says, he says it awkwardly. When he comes back up, he sets something relatively heavy onto the counter with a ‘clunk’. 

 

“Ayy you fixed iiit!” I exclaim, picking up my watch and slipping it onto my wrist.  
“I dunno’ what you did to it,” Says the arms dealer. “But it was pretty messed up. Had to pull some juju out of my ass to fix it.” I grin.  
“Thanks Weas, I owe you one.”  
“Actually you owe me several considering that I’ve fixed a bunch of your shit.” I chuckle.  
“Yeah but you’ll let those go right?” He shrugs.  
“You’ll probably kill me if I don’t so yeah, consider it a clean slate.”  
I change the subject with a,  
“So do I have to enter my home adress like a gps or?”  
“I already entered your home address, the bar’s address, Josie’s bar’s address, avengers tower, subway station, ect ect.”  
“Awe…” I say sappily. “You really do care.” He rolls his eyes.  
“Well hopefully I’ll at least get a tip.” I squint at him and he raises his eyebrows.  
“How do you know my address anyways?” He raises his hands.  
“I’ve been there before. Just had to look it up.” 

 

“How about this:” I say. “If I end up in my apartment and not the old lady’s next door, then I’ll give you a big fat tip next time I drop by.” He nods.  
“I’m also working on the holograph sheath-thing.”  
“What would I do without you?” I say, voice sickly sweet as I bat eyelashes I don’t have and blow him a kiss. I don’t have my mask on since I stopped by my apartment to change out of my bloody suit. He rolls his eyes.  
“Wanna’ drink?”  
“Hell yeah.” I answer and he prepares a frothy beer before setting it on the table in front of me. “I’m using my teleporter drunk a.f.” I claim, lifting my drink to him.  
“Try not to zap yourself into a dusty vagina.” He retorts and I wink.  
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want Weas.” He fake-gags as I take a drink from my glass. 

 

“Hey Wade!” A gruff voice calls and I turn in my seat to see Kyle, a big bearded man calling to me from the back door of the restaurant. “There’s a bleedin’ sonnnuva’ bitch out here asking for ya'.” I stand, confused as I walk to the back door and push it open. I see a red suit, blood and I turn back to Kyle.  
“I got it, thanks man. **WEASEL!** ”  
“ **WHAT!?** ” He yells back as he jumps from me yelling his name.  
“Get the first-aid kit and bring it to the back room.” 

 

“Listen Matty, “ I say, turning towards the man sprawled on his back on the broken gravel, his breaths coming in short gasps. “You need to stop getting yourself hurt and just let me and Frank handle New York kay’?” He doesn’t respond as I lift him over my shoulder, which would be difficult considering he’s taller than me but since I have super-strength it isn’t.

 

I bring him to the back room and use his body to knock everything off of a counter as I lay him atop of it. A few dishes shatter but I’m not too worried about it.  
“Must’ve hit rock bottom to have to come here huh?” I ask incredulously as I peel his suit from his body. “What about the nurse chick, what’s her name again? Care bear?” A smile manages to make it’s way onto his face. “C’mon, answer me Double D.”  
“Claire.” He rasps.  
“That’s right,” I coo, grabbing the tweezers out of the first-aid kit that Weasel holds nervously by my right and plucking out shards of glass from his side. “And what about your boyfriend? What’s-his-face? Froggy? Toad-man?”  
“Foggy.” His voice is barely a whisper.  
“That’s right, what about him? This is gonna’ hurt.” I grunt as I weave a needle through his skin. He winces and hisses in a breath.  
“We’re um,” He answers after he takes a breath. “He’s not my boyfriend and-” Another wince. “We’re not on the best terms right now.”

 

“Ooh.” I say sympathetically, tying off the stitches and dabbing a cotton ball in peroxide, running it over the wound. “Trouble in paradise?” He wheezes and I think it’s a laugh. “Why don’t you just fuck im’ and make up?” I ask, rinsing off the tools that I used and setting them back into the first-aid kit box. He lets out a long breath.  
“Well we’ve never fucked before. Because we’re not dating.” I tilt my head, wrapping bandages around his torso.  
“Aw c’mon. I know you want him right? Or is it cause’ he’s a guy. Dick, vagina, what’s the difference?” He pauses, either thinking or pausing to clear his head, him being dizzy from blood loss.  
“I'm a Catholic you know.”  
“Ah,” I say. “I don’t need a religion because I’ll never die yah’ see. It’s all free game for me.” He covers his eyes with the back of his hand and I continue, a lilt to my voice. “Though… If you ever wanna’ try a guy on for size… I’m here for ya' Matty-boy.” He grunts in response. What can I say? He’s a beautiful man. I’d fuck him any day of the week. Anytime anywhere, and I always make sure to let him know that the offer is on the table. He waves a hand at me.  
“Shut up Wade. Not interested in you and-” He moves his hand to smile at the ceiling. “Haven’t you been spending a lot of time with Spider-man lately?” I sigh as I lean back.  
“Well can you blame me? His ass is stellar. Have you seen it? I suppose not.” 

 

I laugh at my own joke and Matt actually grins.  
“You know how you do that touchy thing to feel people’s faces? Maybe you can ask to do that to his ass.” I add.  
“Oh my god shut up Wade.” He says along with more wheezing. “I'm pretty sure he’s a minor and Daredevil doesn’t need to be seen molesting a kid. Neither do you for that matter.”  
“Actually,” I pipe up, feeling his pulse with a toothy grin. “He’s legal.”  
“Uh-oh.” He expresses. “Does he know what’s comin’ to him?” I shake my head.  
“Well I am offering to share Webhead since you’re all grumpy.” I pinch his cheek. “Tell me honestly, you wouldn’t like to bury your-”  
“Wade.” Matt cuts me off with a sigh. “Can we talk about this later? I lost a lot of blood and need sleep.”  
“Sure thing but, you gonna’ sleep on a table in the back room of the bar Weasel works at? Pretty sure his germs are all over this.”  
“Fuck you Wade.” Weasel calls from around the corner.  
“Love you more!” I call back before turning back to Matty. “I’d offer to take you to my place but it might be just as much of a shit hole as this is so.” He waves his hand at me again.  
“I don’t care. It’s not like I can see it. I just need to somewhere to sleep.” I smirk, shrugging as I lift up behind his legs and lower back.  
“I can walk.” He grumbles and I set him down reluctantly.  
“Can’t promise that I won’t jump you in your sleep.” I inform him and he shakes his head.  
“You won’t jump me.” He tells me and I raise my eyebrows.  
“Oh? Why wouldn’t I?”  
“Because I’m hurt and because you like that Spider-man more than you’re letting on.” He says matter-of-factly and I feel myself glare, the need to defend myself burning in my throat so I clear it, knowing that if I get defensive it would only prove him right so instead I say,  
“As long as his ass is in my future I don’t care how it gets there.” I flash a toothy grin as we walk out the back door of the bar. 

 

I’d prefer to use the front door like a respected civilian but we can’t have people seeing Daredevil with his shredded mask barely covering his features and him bleeding all over this butter-face now can we?

 

“Did anyone see you without your mask?” I ask, looping my arm under his shoulders and supporting his weight as he begins to pant from the effort of walking on his own. He shakes his head as he answers,  
“I don’t think so.”  
“Don’t _think_?” I ask and he shrugs.  
“If anyone did it’s not like the average person can look at me and say ‘that’s Matt Murdock’ unless they know my law firm.” I snicker.  
“Might not want to say that here either Matty-boy.” I point out. “We’re sort of out in the open here.” He curses under his breath which makes me laugh more. “It’s okay though, there’s no one around.” He pauses at that before saying,  
“I know.”

 

( _Of course he knows._ ) White jumps in.  
‘ _Oh hello,_ ’ I greet. ‘ _Where have you been?_ ’  
( _He’s got those crazy super senses._ ) White finishes without acknowledging me.  
[ _You know his ass is pretty stellar too._ ] Yellow blurts suddenly, causing me to huff a laugh and lower my hand to grope his ass. 

 

“Wade.” Matt warns, pulling my arm up to his shoulders again. I grumble and move my nose to his hair, taking a deep breath. He smells like aftershave and speed stick deodorant and blood. A completely different smell compared to the scent of Peter’s fabric-softener and apple pie scent.  
“ _Wade._ ” Matt voices again, completely pushing me away from him. I pout. “We’re both involved in other people.” Matt explains. “So I can’t.” I pat his shoulder.  
“So you’ll give Frank a shot but not little ol’ me?” I ask and, I can’t really see that well in the dark and under his mask but I _swear_ he’s blushing.  
“We barely did anything.” He says, brushing it off and I believe him. Frank told me he’d only gotten Matty off and then Matt had been too embarrassed and ashamed to return the favour. I suppose he saves that for a certain person. I sigh, tugging on his arm and leading him in the direction of my apartment, which I purposely chose to be not too far away from the bar. I could try using my teleportation device. It would be easier on Matt but I haven’t tested it out yet and I’m not sure if it can take two people at a time. If I use it I might end up in my apartment with just his arm in my hand and the rest of him gone so I ditch the idea. 

 

“Ah- the door’s here.” I say suddenly, forcing Matty to turn as I enter the code and push open the back door to my apartment building. He pauses, probably checking for anyone around or in the lobby that can see us. The room is open but run-down. The carpet is a colourful marble pattern, like kindergarten classrooms, the tall counter that blocks off an office has a sticky surface and the clear candy bowl sitting atop of it is empty except for a loose tootsie-roll wrapper. The sitting area’s chairs are made from hardwood and the legs wobble when you sit on them.

 

“It closes at nine.” I tell him and he gives a curt nod of understanding. “Everyone’s gone home.”

 

As soon as we enter the elevator, Matt collapses against the railing, panting heavily.  
“It’s alright buddy.” I tell him, pushing his sweaty hair from his face. His warm breaths smooth over my hand in short puffs. “You can even use my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”  
( _You mean the la-z boy that you always sleep in._ )  
[ _Don’t act like you’re being so charitable._ ]  
‘ _If you both don’t go back to wherever you had been hiding I’m going to punch myself in the face._ ’  
( _Please do._ )  
[ _Yes that would be enjoyable to see since we **don’t** feel pain._ ]

 

I sigh as I the doors ding and slide open on their tracks, helping Matt up by wrapping my right arm around his wait and leading him to my apartment door. I feel up my pockets with my other hand for a few moments before I hear the jingle of my keys in my hoodie pocket. I unlock the door and it swings open on rusty hinges. I help Matt hobble through the small living area and to my bedroom at the back of the small apartment. My room’s walls are covered in peeling tan wallpaper. I think the floor’s carpeting was once the same colour but now it resigns a dusty dark brown.  
I clean off my bed enough for him to fall onto and fetch the last clean blanket from my hall cupboard. 

 

“G’night Double D.” I call as I throw the blanket on his head. He groans into his pillow.  
“It smells weird.” He says, not bothering to move it.  
“Do you want anything?” I ask, ignoring his complaints.  
“Nuh-uh.”  
“Water?” A pause.  
“Uh-huh.” I smile and head into the kitchenette to try and find a clean cup. I have to wash one out of my stack of dirty dishes in the sink and I pour him a glass of tap water and plunk a few chunks of ice into the cup. 

 

I set it on the bedside table on his right.  
“Don’t knock it over with your blindness.” I say as he reaches over and grips the cup, not even pausing to pretend to grapple for it before lifting it to his lips. I then take his mask and lay it on the table next to his water. “Feel free to strip down and get comfortable.”I say, innuendo thick in my voice.  
He grunts.  
“Good night~” I coo as I close the door and strip out of my casual clothes I had changed into before heading to see Weasel. I had been planning on having a few drinks tonight. Taking a night off. I glance at the door. I could’ve just left him outside but, both Matt and I know I wouldn’t do that. There’re only a few people I have a soft spot for and he’s one of them. Or maybe the ‘few people’ are just good people in general because if it had been Logan or Bruce or Cap etc. I would’ve done the same thing.  
( _I wish it was Petey sleeping facedown on our bed T.B.H._ )  
“Mhm.” I voice, wiping down my counters and picking up the few articles of scattered clothing off my living room floor.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excited to publish the next chapter guysssss. Please leave a comment/review on whatcha' think! I love reading them and try to respond to all of them (all 6 of them :D).


	8. Dinner at Aunt May's ft. a wet dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so Wade flirts with Peter, Peter has a busy busy life and like three jobs, and a wet dream HA. Btw it's not like an actual smut scene or anything. Just kind of a teaser.

### 

Peter Parker’s P.O.V.  


###  I watch, almost dumbfounded as Deadpool thrusts my phone into my hands and proceeds to _jump_ off the roof. I then hear him scream a curse and I figure that if he’s well enough to still cuss like a sailor then he’s okay but I find myself still peeking over the side of the roof to check on him. He’s flat on his ass but after a moment and a shake of his leg (my spidey-senses pick up the resounding ‘pop’ that came along with the shake of his leg a few seconds later, making me wince) he gets up enough to lean his shoulder on the wall. He says something else but I can’t make out what he’s saying, and then he looks up, causing me to jump back.  
‘ _Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!_ ’ I think to myself and slam my fist against my forehead. ‘ _How lame can I be?_ ’ I force myself to breathe in a few deep breaths and lowering my fist as I stand and glide over to where my mask rests in a small heap. I scoop it up and pull it over my head, running my thumbs over my wrists to make sure my web-shooters are there and on correctly. 

 

 

“Okay,” I say to myself on a breath. I unlock my phone to make sure it had saved his contact and felt an expression of confusion cross my face as I see a new contact named ‘Bae <3’. I laugh to myself at his child-like humour, change his contact name to ‘Wade’ and slip my mask over my head, jump off the side of the building, dart my hand out to my left and catching myself with my web-shooters after falling a story or two. I let out a ‘whoop!’ as I swing from building to building in mere milliseconds, the wind whipping cold and sharp at my skin through my suit. It feels great. It feels free and exhilarating, like flying almost. Or as close as I’ll ever get to flying. I crave this on hot days or when I’m stressed out over school. It makes my heart pound in my chest and whenever I decide to land, my cheeks always ache from grinning so hard for such a long period of time. 

After listening to the police scanner a few minutes on my headphones and doing a sweep of the city, I make my way back to my apartment to change. I’ve got a lot to do. I have a shift at Joe’s Pizza in twenty minutes, then I’ve got dinner with Aunt May and a report I have to start on before I try to get a few hours of sleep. Oh, not too mention doing a shit-ton of research on Honest-Truth. Hopefully even getting over to the Avengers tower to ask Tony for some information. My eyelids droop just thinking about the rest of the day stretched out in front of me. 

 

I swing onto my apartment's window sill and and hook my fingers under the ledge to open it from the outside. I picked this apartment specifically when I was deciding to rent a place because the window faces the back of another building in a small alley. Once in awhile there’s a drug dealer that hangs around down there or a cat getting into one of the garbage bins but besides that, no one has ever seen me enter my apartment in my Spider-man suit. I hope so anyways. 

 

I do a flip into my apartment just cause’ and strip from my suit as fast as I can, fumbling with the zipper at the base of my spine and doing a little wriggly-shimmy dance to get it off my shoulders. Once I’ve pulled the feet of the suit off the heels of my feet with a ‘snap’, I stumble over to the dresser that I keep my clothes in by my small flat-screen t.v. 

Now, when I say my apartment is small, I mean it is _small_. It’s one room with a tiny six foot by six foot bathroom attached. There’s no carpeting because apparently when the hotel did use to keep carpeting it got ruined too fast and it was too expensive to replace it so there’s just a giant tacky, hippie styled rug laid out in the living room that I got from a garage sale and white speckled tile everywhere else. I have one couch that doubles as a lay-out bed and one counter with a microwave on it and a stove that always stinks like old food no matter how much a I clean it. The freezer is that same but it smells like freezer-burn. I have a small dresser with three large drawers and two little ones that also serves as a closet- so it’s sort of like a vanity- that stands next to the small table that my t.v. sits on. 

 

I open the wooden double doors and pull out a gray graphic t-shirt that has ‘Bazinga!’ printed over the chest, a pair of faded skinny jeans and, not being able to find socks, I slip on my used-to-be-white-but-are-now-gray Vans and stumble out the door. It takes me three tries to lock my front door because I’m in such a rush and fumbling so much, all the while chanting,  
‘ _FuckI’mlatefuckI’mlatefuckI’mlatefuckI’mlate_ ’ over and over in my head. 

 

Honestly I probably would have gotten out the door faster if I would’ve calmed myself down instead of panicking like a lunatic but oh well. I pat down my pockets to make sure I have my wallet and my phone on me with one hand and frantically waving a cab down with my other. Three pass by with empty back seats and I give a loud,  
“Come on!” at the third one, throwing my hands in the air. 

 

Finally a run down cab slows to a stop at my side and I yank open the back door. Now yes I could’ve taken my bike but it got stolen a few weeks back and I do not have enough money to buy one at the moment. I grip the head of the passenger side seat and lean forward.  
“Joe’s Pizza.” I say and he nods. 

 

I press back into the stiff seats of the taxi.  
‘ _Man it’s been a crazy week._ ’ I think to myself, rubbing a hand over my face and thumbing at my eyes. 

 

The drive takes a few extra minutes that I do not have to spare because we get stuck in afternoon traffic. Finally the cab stops outside the small corner store of Joe’s Pizza. 

 

“Okay thanks so much!” I call as I practically throw myself from the back seat and toss a my little bit of cash through the rolled-down window of the drivers side. I push open the swinging door with my shoulder and immediately start babbling out apologies.  
“Mr.Aziz I’m sosososos sorry, I didn’t keep track of time and I have a paper due next week and-”  
“Peter!” He blurts, looking up from behind the counter. “You hush now.” My jaw snaps shut. “Help me roll this doh.”  
I give a sigh of relief and nod, defeated as I grab an apron from the shelf on the other side of the counter and pull the strap over my head and tying it about my waist.  
“Ah-ah-ah!” Mr.Aziz says before I can do anything. “Wash your hands before you put gloves on.” I nod again and he looks at me for a second. I pause, not sure if I should say anything. “It’s okay,” He finally reassures after another moment. “I know you’re a busy kid. Just make sure to be on time when you start doing deliveries again.” I give a small awkward smile.  
“Thanks Mr.Aziz.” I say and he shrugs a large shoulder as I turn to the hand sink and reach forward to squeeze a thick ooze of soap out of the bottle and onto my palm. 

 

Mr.Aziz is a large Italian man on the heavier-set side. He’s usually got a stern set to his face when it comes to his employees but today he seems softer, the smile lines by his eyes more pronounced as he works, kneading the pale doh with his thick hands. I’m very grateful he’s been so merciful today. 

 

~~~

 

“You’ve worked well today Parker.” Mr.Aziz says at the end of my shift. I force a weary smile as I toss my apron into the laundry bin that sits just inside the very small room that only contains a washer and dryer stacked atop each other and shelves along the wall that holds clean aprons thrown messily over one another.  
“Thank you.” I answer. “Have a nice night.”  
“Be safe.” He replies over the sound of the bell as I open the glass-paned door to the street. 

 

From here I’ll be going home. Not to my apartment but _home_ home. To Aunt May’s place. Even if it’s not the house I grew up in, the little apartment we shared is pretty close. 

Since I only had a four hour shift from one pm, I decide to just walk the ways it takes to get to Aunt May’s. That and I don’t think I have enough money to pay for another taxi. If I asked, she would pay for it but I hate asking for more than what I have to. She already does so much for me. I pause.  
‘ _But four miles?_ ’ I complain to myself. ‘ _If I had my suit it would take me ten minutes to get there tops._ ’ I groan and kick an abandoned half-crushed paper cup along the sidewalk a few steps before it rolls out of the way of my feet. ‘ _Could I just use my emergency web-shooters in my casual clothes? It’s not like anyone could see my face really._ ’ I think to myself, glancing down at my t-shirt. ‘ _No, no. Then they could clearly see my silhouette and maybe even roughly what age I am. Guess I’ll have to walk it._ ’

 

~~~

 

I knock twice on the door, sweat rolling down my forehead. I’m a pretty active guy but speed-walking four miles? That’ll kill ya’.  
“Coming!” She calls through the door.  
“Hey Aunt May,” I say as she opens the door to greet me.  
“Peter!” She exclaims happily, wrapping her arms around my neck and rocking back and forth for a moment. I hug her back, squeezing my eyes shut and breathing in her powdery perfume. No one gives hugs like Aunt May. A wave of warmth washes over me, imprinting a fairly permanent smile onto my face as she pulls away and ushers me into the entryway. I pull my shoes off and set them by the door as I close it behind me. 

 

The smile I have plastered to my face ebbs slightly when I get a whiff of minced meat.  
“Aunt May… “ I say sternly, giving her a pointed look. She shrugs sheepishly and gestures to the silverware drawer as a way of telling me to set the table.  
“It was no trouble really.” She attempts to convince me.  
“I would’ve been happy eating the leftovers from the other day.” I press.  
“I know you don’t get a lot of freshly-made food nowadays.” She sighs.  
I pause, considering pushing more but my stomach grumbles. I _really_ like steak. So instead I just sigh, the smile worming it’s way back to my lips as I pull the silverware drawer out of it’s tracks and grab two forks and steak knives. 

 

“Hows school going?” Aunt May asks while she sets our food onto our plates.  
“Oh um-” I think about what we’ve been working on in my science major, my eyes rolling around in my head, searching my memory. “Good…?” I say finally and she raises her eyebrows at me.  
“Well you don’t sound too sure of yourself.” She points out the obvious and I snort.  
“I’ve just been busy lately.” I say which isn’t really a lie. “I have good grades Aunt May don’t worry.” She smiles kindly, almost to herself as she brings the plates to the table and I pour tea into our glasses before following her to our chairs.  
“I know Peter,” She says with a nod. “You’re a hard-working boy.” I sit with a polite nod. “So,” She continues, changing the subject. “Found a girl you like yet?” I swear she asks me this every time I come over but before I can give her a tight awkward smile and tell her that, no I have not found a girl that I like, a very vivid image of Deadpool flashes through my head. Him without his mask and I find myself pausing. In response to what I can only imagine my expression is for a moment Aunt May gasps and clasps her hands together over her plate of food.  
“Oh you have! Tell me all about her Peter.” I blush furiously.  
“N-no,” I stutter, feeling disgust and curiosity and a bucket full of other emotions suddenly put to boil in my chest as I think,  
‘ _Why did I think of him???_ ’  
Aunt May raises her eyebrows as a slow smile crosses her face.  
“Okay,” She answers shortly, voice rather smug as she gathers a piece of steak onto her fork and lathers it in the broth that leaks around the sides of the meat.  
“Aunt May-” I start and she laughs, face lighting up.  
“You have got it bad Peter.” 

 

I shake my head. If only she knew who she was assuming I had the hots for. I squint at her over my fork as I take my first bite of my dinner. My not-really-angry-but-embarrassed glare quickly dissolves when I roll my eyes into my head and moan around the food in my mouth.  
“I have missed your food so much.” I admit.  
“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Aunt May says as she points at me with her fork, amusement glinting in her eyes.  
“Yes ma’am.” I answer without swallowing first and she snorts.  
“What a smart-ass I’ve raised.” She mumbles, not really mad and I grin.  
“I’m proud of what you’ve raised. Aren’t you?” I ask, gesturing dramatically to my chest and she laughs.  
“I am.” She agrees.

 

~~~  
I get home full and happy and comforted and my taxi paid for because when I let it slip that I walked to her apartment from work she had refused to let me walk back in the dark. Now I really _really_ do not feel like doing my schoolwork or planning any type of mission to take down Honest Truth but life is shit and sometimes you’ve gotta’ suck it up and do what you’ve gotta’ do.  
I’ve already looked over Honest Truth’s files at least five times and I’m pretty confident that I know what we’re dealing with. Honestly, with Deadpool by my side, I could easily just tell him to take them down and he’d charge into the building like a badass, killing everyone in the whole building in under thirty minutes. It would be faster. Just as effective. Maybe more so, like he said but I can’t stand the thought of people dying at my hands. Even if they're not technically my hands, I would still be involved. I sigh. No, what we’ll have to do is keep everyone involved with Honest Truth inside the building alive and well until the police get there. 

 

I sit up slightly. Actually we’ll have to get the police involved before we do anything. Not that they’ll be there, but we need to give them just enough information so they know what Honest Truth is, and that they need to be shut down. My breath comes out slow and controlled. So, not easy but I can do this. _We*_. I correct myself, staring blankly at my computer. Finally I lean forward and press the power button on the side. 

Because I’m Spider-man, I’ve gotten in contact with the police before, but only after I had Tony set up an anonymous email that they wouldn’t be able to track back to my computer. I begin typing up a message for them. By now they should recognise this email but I introduce myself to them as Spider-man anyways. I tell them about Honest Truth and then attach a file to the email. An email that doesn’t give away their location, just names of assassins, who they killed, and the name at the top of the file belonging to the guy that ran Honest Truth.

 

I could just send them all of the files and let the police handle it but this is a heavily guarded warehouse. One filled with _assassins_. There would definitely be blood shed. Innocent hardworking men or women that will die. I can save them. Do the dirty work for them. And this is why I do what I do. To save people with families and friends. To save one person is to save someone’s baby, someone’s best friend, someone’s mom or dad, someone’s husband or wife. 

 

If one person had been strong enough, had been there to save my parents, my life would be completely different. Maybe my personality and mental state would be too. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I shake my head, thinking of my Aunt May, taking slow breaths and reminding myself how grateful I am for her.  
‘ _Someone could have saved Uncle Ben too_.’ I think and my heart clenches. They would’ve saved my only father figure. Aunt May’s husband. I let out a shuddering breath and I press my fingers to my eyes.  
‘ _It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay._ ’  
I talk myself through breathing when I feel my head getting foggy, emotion flooding me.  
“In… Out… In… Out…” I don’t really have a problem with panic attacks or anxiety attacks or any other sort of attack problems but when I get to start thinking about loss, about my responsibilities, and about my own personal losses, I start to get a bit overwhelmed. It’s never gotten out of hand though I don’t think. I’ve always been able to rein it in before it could. 

 

I finally take my hands from my face and send the email, biting at my lip nervously before I go to my school site and read over the prompt we’re supposed to write a three page essay for by this friday. 

Okay, so I manage to get halfway through my planning page before my eyes are sliding shut.  
‘ _I can work on it tomorrow._ ’ I excuse myself. I slip out of my chair and hobble to my bathroom, not bothering to shut the door or turn the light on as I take a piss and brush my teeth. My body is so exhausted I can barely bring myself to walk to my bed. I pause to seriously debate just curling up on my bathroom floor and sleeping. But then I think about sleeping next to the toilet and I scrunch up my nose. 

I’m asleep before my head hits the pillow.

 

**_______________**

 

_His fingers dance over my spine, squeezing the back of my neck as he does something to me from behind that I can’t see. I just know that it feels_ good _. God it feels good. Whimpers fill my ears and I’m mortified to realize that they are spilling from my own mouth. I begin to writhe as the sensation becomes too much and he pulls away, leaning up to wrap his arms around my stomach and kiss behind my ear.  
“You okay Petey?” He says and his breath brushes hot over my neck. His voice is familiar and I let out a groan, pushing back against him and leaning my forehead on my arms._

 

_Then he’s pushing me over onto my back. He runs his lips over my chest and a whine pushes itself from my throat. It’s needy and loud. Demanding. All shame is gone as he looks up at me._  
_”Wade,” I breathe._

 

**_______________**

 

I wake suddenly, panting and tangled in my covers. I’m frozen in place for a few long moments as my brain processes what I’d just dreamt about.  
‘ _Oh my god._ ’ I think, putting my head in my hands, fingers pulling at my hair. _Hair that he had pulled. No no, he didn’t really pull my hair. He wasn’t actually there and I probably just had that dream because Aunt May kept pressing last night and-_  
I grunt as soon as I try to shift my sitting position in bed, realizing that I have a panifully hard erection that stands proud in my boxers. I sigh, still half asleep and almost desperate enough to cry.  
‘ _The fuck is this?_ ’ 

 

I’ve never really had a physical attraction to him. At least not one that I’ve noticed. I pause. ‘ _Okay so maybe he’s fit and I like his sense of humor but a wet dream? Really?_ I groan, replaying the events of my dream over in my head. _Had it really been him? What if it was just like, a different Wade or something?_

 

After a minute of rolling that around in my head I think,  
‘ _Wow I’m a desperate idiot right now._ ’

 

‘ _ **You okay Petey?**_ ’ His voice plays over in my ears and my breathing quickens. I remember his strong hands and how hot they were on my skin. His scars were there but I can’t recall the texture of them. Not that I want to. ‘ _What had he been doing to me? FIngering me? Rimming?_ A shudder wracks my body and my dick gives a twitch in interest, drawing a breathy moan from my throat. 

 

His voice had sounded so _real_ and he had flipped my over effortlessly. A small part of my wishes that I hadn’t woken up. ‘ _Would we have fucked?_ The way the dream was going probably. I press a hand into my hip, remembering the slight pain in them I get sometimes after I fingered myself. _’Would he make me sore? Was he big? Would he stretch me open and would the burn be a good burn? Would he even bother to prepare me? Would he kiss me while he fucked me? Would he fuck me deep and slow or shallow and fast-_ ’

 

My body jerks and I cry out suddenly as I cum in my pants.  
“Ugh.” I gripe, disgusted with myself. ‘ _I’m like a goddamn teenager._ ’ I hadn’t even touched myself.  
‘ _Well I was a bit backed up._ I defend myself while I stand and make my way to my bathroom, angrily snatching a few squares of toilet paper off the roll and pushing my boxers off with my thumbs before cleaning myself up. Do I bother picking up my soiled underwear off the floor? Nope.

 

Only after I’ve got new underwear out of my dresser and pulled them up over my thighs do I fall back into bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I know this took a while but I like to stay a chapter or tow ahead and the last one I wrote was looonng. I'm also going on vacay for Thanksgiving break so I dunno' if I'll be able to update in the next week or two. As always, comments and kudos are very much appreciated!!!


	9. Texting, New Tech, and dancing with the Devil

Wade Wilson’s P.O.V.

The next morning, my bedroom window is left open and Daredevil is gone. He usually closes windows when he leaves through them so for a second I’m kind of surprised he didn’t clean up after himself, but then I realize he must’ve left it open to make sure I knew he was gone.  
‘ _Stupid Matty overthinking everything._ ’ I think to myself as I gather up the still half-full glass of water sitting on the nightstand. 

Last night, before I’d went to bed, I had called up a few people. I know how to find a little someone named Calvin Millfore. Of course, because life can't be easy, he’s out of the country.  
“He up and left a few years back,” One of them said.  
“Gone. Poof. Zoom. Bye. Never heard from again.” Another answered. 

( _Of course he left._ ) White starts.  
[ _He wanted to escape our wrath._ ] Yellow explains.  
‘ _ **My** wrath. Mine._ ’ I correct, irritated.  
[ _Whatever._ ] Yellow huffs. At least it doesn’t ignore me like usual. 

After I’d called the main contacts, I dug a little deeper. I called one of his main men. Or at least someone who’d used to be his main man. I interrogated him over the phone and threw a few (a lot) of threats his way and finally he gave me an idea of where to find his old boss.  
“S-somewhere off the coast of Malaysia!” He said. “His name's Afiq Farah now!” He’d stammered, panicked. That’s when I had let out a slow breath, my mouth turning up at the corners in a satisfied smile.  
“Thank you.” 

~~o -> 0  
“What?” I ask, mouth full. “Yes Weasel, I’m going to move to Malaysia and raise a family there- no! I’m gonna smoke im’ out!” I readjust my phone between my cheek and my shoulder, sucking the remaining ketchup off my fingers one by one. “I don’t really know how yet but I’m gonna’ get him to come here so I can wring his neck out.”  
“Do you really think he’ll come here knowing you want to kill him?” Weasel says, sounding surprised. 

I get a five dollar bill out of my pocket and fold it in the collar of Jimmy’s shirt, patting it good-naturedly. I cover the bottom half of the phone for a moment to mouth a ‘thanks’ at the hot dog vender. He nods and waves me off.

“Nah,” I finally answer Weasel, hopping down off the curb and onto the sidewalk. “Not by his own will anyways.”  
“Oh,” Weasel says casually. “So you’re just going to drag him from Malaysia to New York tied up in the back of a Volkswagen.”  
“I know some people,” I say on a shrug he can’t see.  
“This sounds like a bad idea. Wade, this sounds like a very bad idea.”  
“And?” I say defensively. “What’s gonna’ happen? He’ll be taken, stripped. He won’t have any back-up. All there will be is for me to watch the light fade slowly fr-”  
“‘And’?” Weasel throws back at me. “And what if he does have back-up Wade? What if he still has connections down here that you don’t know about? Powerful connections.” I roll my eyes and mockingly chew on my tongue to mimic Weasel.  
“Stop being such a worry-wart. It’s not like I can die.” 

There’s a long silence on the other line and then a click of Weasel’s tongue as he finally sighs,  
“Yeah, yeah I know.”  
“Yup.” I say, grinning to myself. Weasel likes to act like the mother figure in my life sometimes he really does.  
“Be careful,” He presses.  
“Yes ma’am.” I answer and he makes an offended noise. 

‘“Are you gonna’ come by to get your holograph thingy or what?” He questions, changing the subject. I squint.  
“Y’know it worries me that you’re supposed to be fixing a highly advanced technological device and yet you don’t even know what to call it.”  
“It may have a few creaks but it should work alright.” He ignores me.  
“I’ll be by to pick it up later.” I tell him and hang up.

I’m about to lock my phone and return it to it’s usual place stuffed in my pocket but a notification box at the top of the screen catches my eye and I press on it with my thumb. It’s a text from an unknown number that reads,  
‘ **Hey Deadpool this is Spider-man. I have a plan thingy mabob. wanna meet somewhere or** ’  
I can’t help but laugh.  
( _Isn’t the reason you gave him your number was so you two didn’t have to meet up all the time?_ )  
I nod and add his contact to my phone as Webhead before I respond to his text with,  
‘ **Nah we can just text** ’

I move to pocket my phone but before I can it buzzes in my hand with an immediate response from Peter.  
‘ **Oh haha i knew that** ’ I rest my hand on my hip impatiently as I wait for his next text he’s undoubtedly typing out to send. After another minute my phone vibrates through my fingers and I read what he sent.  
‘ **We should take down their best fighters 1st. I’ll need help breaking into their facility AGAIN & then we can move in 2 take them from the inside at night when theres not as many people inside. Ok & then we use the flash drive i got be4 2 alert the police. Then the only thing left is 2 hope that the police get there in time to arrest every1**’

I read over it again before I reply:  
‘ **but wat if the po-po don’t get there in time?** ’ His next text comes faster.  
‘ **idk** ’  
‘ _Great._ ’ I think to myself. ‘ _So he’s got an outline but the rest is winging it._ ’  
[ _Like you ever plan anything out._ ] Yellow snorts. I shrug.  
‘ _True,_ ’  
‘ **sounds like a plan Pete, when do u wanna do it?** ’ I answer and he sends,  
‘ **i work on sundays so saturday **’****  
( _He works on Sundays?_ )  
[ _That sucks._ ]  
‘ **oky doky, ill meet u on the roof of the building across from honest truth wat time?** ’  
‘ **10pm **’****

I finally shove my phone back into my pocket without being interrupted and I do a hop-skip away, hitting my heels together. 

**~~o - > 0**

At the bar, I give Weasel a hard eye. You’d think I’d need a side job or something but the money I got paid for taking out those kidnapping thugs will last me a while longer. 

“Where’s mah’ shit?” He scoffs and instead of replying he opts for walking into the back room to retrieve my sheath.  
“Here man.” He says, flicking his knotted, slightly greasy hair from his face. “It should work. How did your teleporter work? Okay?”  
I pause, picking up the small device that also serves as a katana sheath and a small black band that goes around my wrist, a small red button on the inside of it. I’m guessing the button activates and deactivates the sheath.  
“Haven’t tried it yet,” I mumble as I slip the band over my hand. It fits snug, not too tight as to cut off my circulation but enough as to not slip off even when I’m fighting or running. “How do I change who I turn into?” I ask him, gesturing to my wrist. 

“Well,” He starts and I know he’s about to tell me something I’ll either want to kiss or kill him for. “I already programmed you into it.” I tilt my head at him as he explains, “Like you without the scars. And you can wear this under your clothes too, just without your katanas.” I blink at him.  
“So it’ll sheath me into me?” He nods slowly. “But without the scars? How’d you do that?”  
“A few old pictures of you and a really good but complicated computer software.” I feel like kissing him.  
“That’s great Weasel.”  
“Yeah and when it comes to other people, as long as you touch them while simultaneously pressing the button, they’ll save in the band. It won’t hold over twenty so you’ll have to change them out occasionally by plugging it into your comp and deleting a few you have saved.”  
“Okay but then how do I pick which person I want to look like?” He shrugs.  
“Just think about it man. I used the last sheath you had to make this one so it’s still connected to you.”  
“Oh.” I say simply. Finally I grin at him. “Hook me up to this baby.” 

Weasel grins back and glances around the bar, which is almost empty this early in the day. Actually now that I think about it, does Weasel ever leave this place? I’m about to ask but Weasel tells me to take off my jacket and come around to the back so I save my question for later. 

I round the counter whilst pulling my hoodie over my head, uncovering my faded ‘Wham!’ t-shirt I picked up from Walmart a ways back.  
“Okay,” Weasel says, picking up the sheath and showing it to me with a raise of his eyebrows. “Now pay attention young pupil because I’m not going to dress you everyday.” I roll my eyes.  
“If I need you to dress me you will unless you _really_ don’t like having a head.” He nods kind of jerkily, gulps. It’s funny how much I threaten and how seriously he takes it every time. I’d hurt him yeah. I could hurt him real bad but I wouldn’t kill him unless he really deserved it.  
( _You won’t ever mention that though._ ) I shake my head as Weasel’s sweaty hands loosely wrap the straps of the sheath around my shoulders and torso before clipping it sturdily in the back. 

I roll my shoulders, testing it’s give before I’m satisfied it’ll hold.  
“So I’m already in this thing?” I ask as my head pops out the head hole of my red hoodie. He grimaces in response and nods.  
“Yeah,” 

I roll up my sleeve over the black band still on my wrist.  
“Okay so I should just be able to press this button and picture myself smoking hot right?”  
“Right.” Weasel says, wiping down the back table with his sleeve which just kind of smears the grime that covers the surface. 

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, like a little kid making a wish which, I kind of feel like one too actually. My thumb presses down on the button with a small ‘click’ sound and the sheath on my back buzzes with a slight vibration that reverberates through my ribs and collarbone. 

I finally open my eyes enough to see Weasel studying me. My stomach drops until he says,  
“Looks like it’s working good. 

I let out a breath of relief and then half-jog half-power walk to the small employees restroom. The mirror is scratched and foggy with dried water splashes but I clearly see… Wade. The old Wade. When I slowly lift a hand to my face, I still feel the scars but they’re not visible. I lift my lips in a smile and there it is. Dazzling me. I feel sort of emotional, like I had sent my kid off to boarding school and now I’m seeing them over the holidays. But that’s it, just for the holidays because they’ll have to go back to school. They can’t stay with me permanently. 

Weasel pops his head around the edge of the door.  
“Oh god, you’re not gonna’ cry are you?” I let out a quiet laugh, still running my fingers over the skin on my cheek.  
“Nah Weasel I’m not gonna’ cry.”  
“Thank fuck- hey we’ve got customers that want to get drunk so I-”  
“I’ll leave out the back.” I cut him off and he nods before disappearing back behind the door. I grin at myself in the mirror again. Not myself. Old self. Old myself. A lie. A good lie though. 

I twist the small black band of the sheath up under the clunk-in-comparison teleporter that’s disguised as a watch before I flip through addresses already programmed into my teleporter before clicking on one. I hold my breath, close my eyes, and cross my arms tight over my chest, like you would before going down a waterslide. 

It feels briefly like my limbs are being torn off and an axe is cutting straight through my skull (like on My Roanoke Nightmare, that poor crazy lady) and nausea rips through my gut in one agonizingly sharp moment and then it’s like all my limbs are stitched back on and my skull is glued back together and I’m done recovering all in another instant. I’m standing outside a familiar building and I have just enough time to think,  
‘ _Hey it works_ ’ before I’m throwing up over the green dumpster that sits on front of me. I pause to catch my breath.  
‘ _I’ll have to get used to that again._ ’ 

I go to the front of the run-down building that stretches high above me and go to push open both of the swinging double doors but one is stuck in it’s track so I go through one instead. 

I didn’t think the elevator was going to work but it actually does and I ride it up to the sixth floor. I glance at the sign outside of the office that stands straight across from where the elevator opens and push through the doors. This floor is a lot nicer, like someone actually cleaned it up and replaced the flooring, It smells like coffee. 

I’m about to call a false-cheery ‘yoo-hooo~’ when heels clack on the linoleum and a pretty blond rounds the corner of the kitchenette area.  
“Oh!” She says as she starts and puts a hand over her heart. She continues on a small laugh, “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in. Are you here to see anyone?” I flash her a grin in response and her face flushes.  
“I was but you’re plenty to look at.” 

A small battle plays over her features on whether she should smack me or giggle and before she can make a decision, I walk past her and into one of the three offices that inhabit the place.  
“Hey!” She exclaims. 

“Hey Matty.” I greet at the Matthew Murdock who stands in a slightly defensive pose behind his desk. 

“Wade.” He warns. “What are you doing here?”  
“You know him?” Says the blond and I glance at her.  
“I’m Wade,” I introduce myself. “Now you know me too. Want to know me better? 

“Wade!” Matt snaps.  
“But Mattyyy,” I whine. “She’s hoootttt.”  
“And you’ll keep away from her. It’s fine Karen, I’ve got this child. You can leave now.” He says to her quietly, voice low and gentle. 

The blond’s- Karen’s eyes dart between Matt and I for a few moments before she nods.  
“Alright. Call if you need anything.” Once she moves from the doorway I see another guy has been standing behind her, possibly peeking over her shoulder to see what had been going on. 

“Matt?” He asks, sounding innocent and confused. The guy must be around our age- actually around Matt’s age and Matt’s a couple of years older than me- but god he sounds like a teenager. I scrutinize him for a moment and he gets a tad nervous, moving his longish hair out of the way to rub at the back of his neck. “Who’s this?” 

“Oh!” I exclaim, snapping my fingers excitedly. “You’re Foggy!” The guy blinks and nods.  
“Uh. Yeah.” He agrees, tone short as he looks back to Matty, who currently is pinching the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, probably trying to keep himself from yelling at me. 

I sigh. Maybe I went about this wrong. This isn’t just Matt here, I’ve gotta’ be polite.  
“Hey,” I say kindly to Foggy, stepping closer to cup his hand as a way of a handshake. “Sorry, I really need to work out my manners but I just get excited sometimes. I’m Wade Wilson, a friend of Matt’s.” Foggy nods and swallows, face flushing crimson.  
‘ _Oh jeez Matty I don’t think the boy is new to feeling attracted to men._ ’ I think to myself, suddenly exasperated. 

“Yeah no it’s fine.” He answers, politely pulling his hand away and looking expectantly at Matty. He sighs from where he stands.  
“Wade get away from him.” he says and I give a startled but pleased and all-too-knowing laugh as I take a step back from Foggy, who looks utterly confused. “Foggy can I have a minute with him?” 

Foggy pauses and then nods, says, “I just nodded.” And walks out of Matt’s office, closing the door firmly behind him. 

“Awwww~!” I whisper-shout at Matt. “What a tubby little cutiepie!” If Matt didn’t have his glasses on I’m positive I would’ve been able to see his glare.  
“Wade,” He demands, asking without asking. I sigh dramatically, draping myself over his desk.  
“I got a new holograph sheath and I wanted to show it off.” 

A long pause fills the room.  
“You came all the way here to show a blind guy-”  
“Don’t spout bs Matty I know you can see in your devil-way.” I cut him off and, despite him being pissed at me, he quirks a smile. I seem to have that effect on him.  
“You look good.” He says finally, sounding sincere. I pause, turning over, still bent back to lean on his desk. My shoulder wrinkles a few papers as I gesture to his face.  
“I see some new bruises among the ones you got the night I had to stitch you up.” He grunts and moves to sit down at his desk chair. On a whim, I swing one leg over so that when he sits, I’m straddling him between my legs.  
[ _I wonder if we could get close enough to Spidey to straddle him._ ] Yellow wonders.  
‘ _That’s a good question that I’d love to fantasize about but right now I don’t need to be bombarded by thoughts of Peter while I’ve got a beautiful man right here dammit!_ ’ I huff and suddenly a warm hand is on my knee. 

“Are you alright?” Matt asks, his head tilting in concern.  
“Nah I’m fine just,” I wave his forward. “C’mere for a sec.” He hesitates for a few seconds before he leans up in his seat a bit. I wrap an arm around his neck and pull him closer, my mouth dangerously close to the corner of his. 

He doesn’t participate but doesn’t push me away either.  
“See this Matt?” I breathe over his cheek. “Don’t you wish I was Foggy?” A muscles in his back ticks but he says nothing. “This is all you’ve gotta’ do Matt, I know that he’s more than willing.” I smile deviously, heavily enunciating my next words: “Just bend him over your desk.” He makes a choked sound that’s something between a very uncomfortable laugh and a grunt of arousal. He turns his face slightly, bringing his lips even closer to touching mine.  
“Are you really trying to help me with my love life?”  
‘ _Or trying to be in it?_ ’ I finish the unasked part of his question.  
“Would you let me?” I ask finally, pressing my knee painfully into his side and give a toothy grin, knowing his answer even before he gives a small, jerky shake of his head. Just to one side. But it’s enough. On an impulse, I press a chaste kiss to his lips and then push him roughly away with my palm. I let out a cackle at his expression. 

“Oh Matt,” I sigh, standing up and patting his cheek. He doesn’t even flinch. “I kiss all of my friends at least once.” His mouth quirks into a tense line. “Now will you _please_ fuck him soon? This slow burn is killing me!”  
“Did you come to say anything important?” Matt asks, ignoring my complaints. Another wide smile splits across my face.  
“Oh yeah, Peter and I are doing another mission together, so don’t even try to make a move on me.” Matt groans, an aggravated noise but he grins anyway. I realize he hasn’t been angry this whole time. He wasn’t even confused when I pretended to make a move on him. He knows what I was doing, he was just humoring me.  
‘ _Oh I’ll make you mad._ ’ I think giddily as I open his office door to leave. 

Foggy stands at the entrance, talking to Karen whilst cupping a steaming cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup. They had stopped talking as soon as I opened Matt’s office door and now stand stock still and silently watching me as I cross the room over to them.  
“Hey Foggy!” I call when I’m only a few steps away. He tilts his head. “Are you my friend?” I finish without waiting for an initial response. He shares a slightly panicked expression with Karen that says ‘what do I do!?’ before he looks back at me and says,  
“Yes…?” at the exact moment Matt stands up from behind his desk, making it rattle with his sudden fury.  
“No!” He yells at me and I giggle as I wrap a quick hand behind Foggy’s head, quickly tangling my fingers in the soft tendrils there and pressing my lips against his for a good second before he’s hitting my arm hard and exclaiming something bad. “Wade!” Matt all but growls but there’s really nothing he can do so I run my tongue over my lips, tasting Foggy there. Coffee and swedish fish. Also some underlying lingering taste of cool mints and green tea that screams of Matt. 

I stick my tongue out at Matty and cackle as I exit their office, leaving a very shocked, angry, blushing Foggy who’s probably wondering why my smooth-appearing lips felt like sandpaper, a surprised Karen whose wide eyes ask a million questions and a murderous Matt. I’m very satisfied with the aftermath. 

~~~o ->

The air is cool and if I wasn’t covered in skin-leather I’d be shivering. I get there late and when I teleport myself onto the roof I do _not_ throw up this time. I do take a second to hold my gut and take a deep breath as I take in my surroundings. Dark. Cold. A small light emanating from Spider-Man’s phone while he plays PokemonGo, shivers wracking his body every few seconds. 

He jumps when I appear though, his phone dropping out of his hand and bouncing on the rubber corner of its’ case.  
“How-?!” He blurts and I burst out laughing. It’s a short laugh though because I’m afraid of the contents in my stomach making an unwelcome appearance so I quickly close my mouth. I swallow thickly before saying,  
“New tech.” He nods slowly, eyeing me suspiciously for a few seconds. “Sorry I scared you.” I add, voice softer and I take a few steps closer to where he stands. He shrugs a shoulder in that cute, jerky way of his.  
“I-it’s fine." 

I tap the black band on my wrist.  
“More new tech.” I explain. “I can get in pretty easily.” He pauses.  
“I was thinking I was the more stealthy one here.” He says and a smile he can’t see through my mask tugs at my lips.  
“That you are but I, on the other hand, am _great_ at doing impressions.” The eyes of his mask narrow. “All I hafta’ do is take out one guy. A guard or something, someone with keys. Just hafta’ touch him and I can get you in. No fuss.”  
“I’ve gotten in before.” He says, almost defensively.  
“That you have.” I agree, all the while stepping forward, backing him up towards the shack-like thing that opens up onto the roof. “And you did a great job, getting the hard drive. But they’ve probably reinforced the building since then. Boarded up their windows, hired more guards.” My eyes dart down to where his throat works through red material and he lets out a small, overly-controlled breath. He nods.  
“I wasn’t thinking about that.” His back hits a wall. He’s still shivering and it’s so cute. Reminds me of a chiwawa.  
“That’s why you need to work with people who are more experienced Petey, so they can save you from stuff like this. Save you from all that trouble you would’ve gotten yourself in, huh.” I lean in til’ our masks are only a few inches apart. His breathing gets more labored. 

( _Does he think you’re tryin’ to kill him or rape him?_ ) White says obnoxiously.  
‘ _He’d be fighting if he thought I was trying to hurt him._ ’ I think back gently, knowingly. 

“I can fend for myself.” He says, voice hesitant, nervous, breathy and defensive all at once.  
“Oh I know Petey.” I say, letting pride and envy seep through the words. “I’ve seen how good of a fighter you are, how great you are to work with. Never met anyone like you Peter.” I’m grinning as I finally pull away. “So I’m just gonna’ get myself in there and I’ll text you when I’m ready for ya’ kay?” The eyes of his mask are wide and he fidgets with the sleeve of his suit.  
‘ _I’ll take that as a yes._ ’ I think as I press the button on my wrist, sheathing myself as unsuspecting unscarred Wade WIlson and click on the address I entered into my teleported before I got here. 

Pain rips through me and I would scream if there was enough time to open my mouth, but as quickly as the pain came it was gone and I standing in the middle of the lobby of Honest Truth. 

For what looks like a run-down warehouse, it’s quite nice inside. Stone tile covers the floor and the front desk is a granite counter. The two chairs in the corner of the room are sat behind a small flat-screen t.v. that plays The Hunger Games movie. The older woman sitting behind the counter wears an expensive suit and was typing busily behind her computer when I appeared, not noticing me. 

I clear my throat and she glances up, surprised.  
“Oh. Hello, may I help you?” I step up to the glass that separates us and give my most dazzling smile.  
“I forgot they always have beautiful women working at the front desk.” I answer and she squints and pushes her small-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose, not having any of it. I’m about to continue on anyways but a man- large and burly looking but young and clean- who is unmistakingly a guard pokes walks out of the bathroom at the other end of the lobby. “Nevermind I forgot, I’m gay.” I say with a flap of my hand and an exaggerated fem-voice, stepping away from the counter and to the guy, who’s at least a half a foot taller than me, but I use my momentum to push on his shoulder and lead him back into the restroom. >

“Wha?” He says stupidly.  
“Sorry hunk.” I answer and look up at his, batting my eyelashes and sweeping my arm around to grab the side of his head and slam it into the door of the nearest stall. He’s out instantly.  
[ _The bigger they are, the harder they fall._ ] I roll my eyes and close them as I press the button at my wrist again, unscarred Wade Wilson falling away to a bigger man. Specifically, the one lying unconscious on the floor. 

I grab hold of a thick ankle and drag him heavily across the cold tiled floor.  
“God you’re heavy huh?” I say as I heave him over my shoulder and carry him to the third stall from the door, pulling his pants and underwear down ungracefully and setting him atop the toilet. I wrinkle my nose at the hairy man-crotch and legs in my line of sight as I grab the ring of keys from around his neck. I mean there’s nothing wrong with man-crotch but I prefer man-crotch and legs like Pete’s. Smooth, covered with a fine layer of nearly see-through blonde hair and a cute little tight bubble butt. Well I’m not positive that’s what he looks like under that suit but I imagine it’s pretty close. 

‘ _ANYWAYS,_ ’ I think to myself, closing the stall door and walking out of the bathroom. ‘ _Let’s not think about Peter’s crotch right now._ ’ 

“I dunno’ what that guy was doing here so late.” I say gruffly to the lady at the front desk who was looking curiously at the Men's room. She cocks her head to one side. The sheath doesn’t change what you sound like okay so I’m winging it. I give her a small smile and she smiles back but asks,  
“Where did he go?” I shrug.  
“Climbed out the window.” Her eyebrow stretches up her forehead and I let out a laugh. “I’m kidding. He left a few minutes ago.” She blinks. Right now I relying on the fact that is took me a few minutes to get the guard situated in the bathroom and during that time, she got distracted at least once long enough for someone to leave without he noticing. After a second she smiles.  
“He was an odd one wasn’t he?” She says finally and I make an agreeable face, pushing the waist-high door open to behind the front desk.  
“I just got memoed.” I tell her. She just nods and turns back to her computer. I watch her for a moment to make sure she really doesn’t suspect anything and isn’t going to call anyone to notify about anything suspicious. She doesn’t. 

I’m about to press the elevator button but I don’t want to get stuck in it with anyone the guy I’m disguised as knows. That would most definitely blow my cover. Instead I take the stairs two at a time, acutely aware that Spidey is waiting on me. In the cold. I’m barely breathing hard when I reach the second floor. The ceilings are high and far between. Hint that’s why it’s called a warehouse instead of a skyscraper or business building. I open the door at the landing and peek out. There are two guards pacing down the long wide hallway. 

It looks a lot more warehouse-y up here. The lights are dim and the walls of the hallway are a dull gray colour. The guards uniforms are all the same. Unsuspecting but breathable in a white mid-sleeve t-shirt, khaki slacks and black nikes. In case they need to attack someone I presume. 

I move casually into the hallway. Both guards pause and look at me. They don’t ask where I’m going or greet me with a friendly, ‘Yo’ punk,’. Actually they don’t say anything at all. They both aim small silent nods of greeting and I return the exchange. I wrack my brain trying to remember what door was the main office. One that Spidey can easily access from where he is. Finally I enter the last door on the right, all the way down the eerily quiet hallway. 

There’s a strict-looking asian woman sitting at a messy desk. She looks up as I shut the door to her office gently behind me.  
“Gary,” She greets with a slow smile. I would like to say she’s pretty because, she kind of is. Like her features _should_ be pretty but they’re hard and her eyes are cold. The almost expressionless brown of her irises turn gooey at me though. Well not at me, at Gary. I return her smile with an unsure one of my own. 

She stands and click-clacks over to me in tall mocha-colored heels. Wow are they pretty shoes. I have the urge to snap like Britney Spears. I stand still as she drapes her arms around my neck and right before she can process the fabric of my suit against her hands where there should be skin, I’m locking my arms around her neck in a choke hold, cutting off her airway. She makes a small choking noise bot soon goes slack and, minding by Spidey’s rules, I let her drop, dead weight to the ground. I then turn and lock her office door and whip out my phone. 

**im redy 4 u 2 com in thru side window 2nd story rite side** ’ I type out hurriedly, shocked that I didn’t spell anything too horribly, as I pry the wooden boards that I knew were going to be over the windows off. I try to do it as quietly as possible but a few rattling sounds were definitely heard out in the hallway. I press the button on the inside of my sheath-band, returning myself to my Deadpool appearance.  
[ _As long as Gary and asian-lady have the relationship we think they do the guards are probably used to noises coming from her office._ ] I huff out a small laugh at that as I finally get the window open, cool air rushing in through it. 

I’m waiting for a text of acknowledgement when Spider-Man’s face pops out from the top of the window. I twist myself standing up, trying to see him right-side up but then he scuttles through and uses his foot to push on the ledge of the window, closing it back.  
“Y’know Spidey,” I whisper. “You could really make a good exorcist spider thing.” He unsticks himself from the wall and lands silently on the floor. He rubs his arms through his sleeves. “Sorry it took so long.” I apologize. He gives a small shake of his head.  
( _It’s fine._ )  
“Do you know who you’re looking for?” He nods this time. “Do you need me to walk you out?” This is when he mask twitches over his face and I’m guessing he’s grinning at me.  
‘ _I wish I could see that smile._ ' 

“Nope,” He says, sounding amused with himself as he pushes the desk across the floor. It gives a small squeak in protest as he moves it where he wants it. He climbs atop it, rustling papers out of the way and reaching up to touch the vent at the top corner of the far wall. The metal clanks together but he gets it out fairly easily and hands it down to me. I take it and watch as he curls his fingers into the foot-wide opening of the vent and easily lifts himself inside it, wriggling inside until I can’t see him anymore. I think I’m drooling.  
[ _He’s so flexible._ ] 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late update! I went on vacation and I started a new fic (avengers band AU that'll be up soon if you're interested). Kudos is appreciated and comments are loved! Thanks for reading!


	10. Finishing the mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I am so sorry for such a slow update and such a small chapter! I promise I'll make it up to you guys with more chapters really soon! Just with Thanksgiving and Christmas break, and then on top of all of that I'm moving houses! Life has me in a bit of a jam right now but I'll be more free for the next two weeks or so. I'll get a few chapters up within that time frame.

If the air conditioner was turned off I would be sweating through my suit but the air conditioning _is_ on and the strong draft of icy air blows through the stitching on my suit and up the small opening at the back of my mask. I’m shaking like a dog. ‘ _Like a damn yorkie. How the hell can a grown ass guy even fit in a unit opening? You’re pathetic Peter._ ’ I think to myself with a shake of my head, tensing my jaw in an attempt to keep my teeth from chattering. 

My arms ache and my fingertips burn as I scooch myself along smooth metal, wedging my fingers in between the cracks of the panels and pulling myself along. 

I keep a keen ear out, trying to hear my way through the building. From what I can tell, there’s a few guards down the main hallway, and two other voices, ones closer than the hallway I’m slowly making my way away from, drift through the vents. I strain to pick out what they’re saying but I can’t with how the sound bounces off the walls of the vent. I also have to stop moving every minute or so and cock my head to the side, concentrating hard on where the voices are coming from before moving again. 

As I get closer, I think to a room farther back into the building's top floor, the voices get louder but still echo, causing my ear drums to shudder and my shoulders rise in cringes of discomfort. They must be standing close to a vent or I’m right on top of them. 

I pause as I feel the smooth surface of the cold metal change to a rough texture beneath my chest. I back up- which is a real fuckin’ challenge by the way- to see a vent opening beneath me. There’s no light sifting in through the cracks which is odd because the voices I’m hearing sound so close. I pause, squinting to see the stretch of vent in front of me. There’s light up ahead. I feel my already aching muscles cry, trying to reason with my brain. I debate crawling to the light but finally opt to stop here instead. 

I press my palms against the sturdy vent lid, testing its strength. My cold fingers fumble at the sides and pinch around the nails that surround the frame. I work in almost complete darkness as I pull and twist with one hand while keeping the fingers of my other hand curled around the openings of the vent to keep it from falling. I would love to arch back and knock it out with my knee but ‘ _Stealthy, gotta’ be stealthy.’_

It finally drops loose, its weight falling into the grip of my left hand. I let out a sigh of relief through my nose, slowly pulling it up into the vent and attempting to scooch it under my body without scraping along the walls. I (kind of) finally succeed, wrapping my still-cold stiff fingers around the metal edge that cuts into my palms as I swing my legs down and land silently on the floor of the dark room. 

I tune back into the voices that still occasionally drift through the walls but now it sounds like they’re coming from the room directly in front of me. Pausing to make sure I don’t sense anyone else in the room, I run my hands along the wall in front of me, feeling for a door. 

My hands run over a notch and then a door frame along the wall. I grip the round door handle and take a deep breath to prepare myself. 

What happens next is so fast. I yank the door open, using my momentum to push me through and kick the person closest to me- a tall man with a square bald head and that smells strongly of cigarette smoke. The kick lands to his gut and he doubles over. The other guy, a shorter black guy with a crooked tie, says,  
“The fuck-?!” 

Cold sweat drips down my forehead and into my eyes and I’m still shaking from being cold so long, a burning sensation running through my veins from the sudden movement and warm air against my skin. 

I shoot my webs over the guy's left arm and tug him forward so I can karate chop where his shoulder meets his neck. He slumps, unconscious, to the floor. Baldy stands and attempts to sucker punch me in the temple. I pull away far before he would’ve made contact, ducking and kicking his feet out from underneath him. He grunts and lets out a,  
“Is that all you can fucking do?” 

Despite the situation, a smile pulls at the corners of my mouth as the video game ‘Mortal Kombat’ comes to mind, reminding me of backing Batman into the edge of the rink and using the same move- a low roundhouse kick to knock his legs out from under him repeatedly until I win. I’m almost tempted to try it but following my better judgement, I hit him in the nose with a sharp thrust of my elbow. The cracking sound of his nose breaking fills the room. 

I tie the two men to the chair that are in the room. The smaller one comes to just as I’m finishing boy-scout knotting the ties around Baldy’s wrists.  
“Y-you’re that Spider-guy.” He stammers and I sit back on my haunches, pressing my palms into the tops of my thighs and letting out a breath.  
“Yep.” I answer as I bring myself to my feet. “Now answer me this,” I grab the back of another chair and swing it around to sit in front of him. “Where’s the ammo?” As I settle myself to sit backwards on the chair, I tilt my head at him. 

His mouth silently flaps open and shut a few times before he finally decides on, “What’re are you gonna’ do with it?” 

I sigh in relief. This guy is gonna’ tell me where it is. ‘ _Quite the coward though._ ’  
“I’m not gonna steal it.” I assure him and he pauses, apparently not expecting that answer.  
“Then what do you want with it?”  
“Nothing.” I answer truthfully and he eyes me with suspicion. “I swear,” I hold up my hands as a way to say, ‘I swear man’. “Not even gonna’ tell anyone else where it is so they can steal it.” The half truth. I am going to tell the police but not so they can steal it. Just confiscate it. ‘ _It’s not the same thing right? I don’t think so._ ’ 

“I-I can’t-” He starts before earning himself and hard kick to the shin. He yelps in response, his fingers twitching in their bonds. “It’s in here,” He blurts. “They’re in here.” I raise my eyebrows, glance around the room and look back to him like ‘uh, where…?’

“T-there’s a table at the back.” I nod for him to continue once I spot it, a round metal table that glints in the light from the fluorescent bulbs on the ceiling. “Okay uhm, under it there’s a foot press. Just push that.” 

“Oh is it like a secret room?” I say, tone sarcastic and almost giddy, reminding myself of Deadpool. My stomach churns. I hit it with my fist, pissed off at myself that that murderous twerp can make me get butterflies just because I had a wet dream. The fuck is that. 

The guy doesn’t reply but calls worriedly to Baldy that sits to his right. “Doug? C’mon man don’t be dead on me. What’s going on?”

My hearts tugs a bit and I have to remind myself that Short-stop and Baldy are people that kill for money. I move the table, which would probably be too heavy for most people to move by themselves, and scan for a button. There’s a small square in the tile, more defined lines inside of another square, and I press on it with my foot. It clicks after it sinks down about an inch and I hold my breath. 

A mechanical groan sounds through the room as the back wall of the room slowly shifts. The bricks tear apart and open to show a small white room, _filled_ with arsenal weapons. I’m reminded of Harry Potter and Men In Black. 

My gaze sweeps over the walls of weapons before pressing the button to close it back. Before the walls completely touch, I jam the leg of a chair that I tore off into the machine. It creaks and groans in displeasure but finally squeals to a stop. I nod to myself, satisfied with my work and glance back at the two guys, still tied to their chairs. 

I take my phone out and swipe across the screen to unlock it and send a quick text to Wade. 

‘ **Took down assassins in back room, disabled weaponry, ill meet u inna min** ’

I climb the ceiling to get back into the air conditioning duct, my muscles already cramping in complaint. I’m shaking profusely and about half-way to the main hallway when a grunt stops my movements. I scramble forward, cold sweat rolling off the small of my back, until I reach the nearest exit from the vents. I roll and get shakily to my feet as I jump from the wall. 

Wade stands in the middle of the main hallway, holding a guard in a choke hold. A quick glance around and I see the other guards unconscious on the floor.  
“Wade,” I hiss. “I got these guys.” He looks over at me as the man in his arms finally goes slack.  
“You were taking too long. I figured you could use some help.” He pauses, which gives me a second to calm my stomach that began fluttering at the sound of his voice. “You know I can be stealthy too.” I swear I hear a wink in his voice. “Are you cold?”

‘ _Oh yeah, I’m still really fucking freezing._ ’ I try to shrug it off but he’s wrapping strong arms around my shoulders before I can protest. I instantly think of when we were on the roof. He was so close, got so close. He told me I was good. A good fighter. He thinks I’m fun to work with. Said he’d never met anyone like me. My heart thumps hard in my chest and I have to take small breaths in order not to wheeze. 

Wade chuckles under his breath as he pulls away, probably because he could feel my heartbeat. I’m glad I’m wearing my mask to hide the blush heating my cheeks as Wade begins to drag the guards by their feet to the utility closet. 

“Will it fit?” I ask and he pauses. “Them. I meant them.” Wade looks up at me and my gutter-brain cries with embarrassment. My face is so hot right now. _Why does he make me so nervous? Do I have a goddamn crush on Deadpool?_

“It’s pretty big,” He replies. “The utility closet, that is.” I snort at that, embarrassment momentarily forgotten. 

“Who’s downstairs?” I ask, changing the subject back to work as I help him drag a big guard to the door of the closet.  
“An old lady and a guard that’s knocked out in the bathroom.”  
“Oh,” I say dumbly.  
“Took him out on my way in.” He explains with a strained sound as he forces the door shut and locks it.  
“How many guards was that?” I say suddenly.  
“Uhm… Six?”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Mhm. What’re you thinking about Petey-boy?”  
“I’ve just gotta’ grab that extra hard drive. You contact the police.” I command, turning to jog back down the hallway, the shaking in my body slowly turns to tremors as I break the window of a private office and snake my hand through the opening to unlock the door from the inside. 

The door swings open as an alarm goes off, filling the whole floor with a horrible whining noise. I ignore it as I step inside, opening a few drawers of the filing cabinet by the large wooden desk and grabbing what I was looking for. I jog back to Wade.  
“They’re on their way.” He confirms before I have to ask so instead I just nod, not trusting myself to speak, and go to the end of the hallway and into the last office to crawl out of the window Wade had let me in from. 

~~~ 

I’m standing on the roof, my mask in my hand, watching the police cars slowly start to build up around the building that had once been Honest-Truth. Guards and murderers get ushered out in handcuffs and into the backs on jail trucks. 

“It was a good plan Webhead,” Wade compliments and I glance at him over my shoulder.  
“Thanks.” I say shortly, my mouth opening and closing for a minute until I grasp what I need to say.  
“No problem.” He replies but I shake my head.  
“No, really. Thanks. Thanks so much.” I turn to look at him, brave at first but suddenly feeling shy when I see his warm expressive brown eyes instead of the blank white material of his mask. “I couldn’t have done it without your help.”

A slow grin stretches his face and he leans close. “Sure you could’ve.” He says quietly, breath fanning out over my cheeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are really appreciated!


	11. Wade's revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay so there's a little bit of a filler part with Wade and Bucky but I liked writing it and I think it's cute but besides that I like this chapter. Not as much as I like the next chapter but this one will keep you on your toes~! Mwahaha

Wade’s P.O.V  
Peter squirms beneath my attention, obviously nervous. “You could’ve done it without me.” I say quietly, leaning in closer, close enough to feel the body heat he emits. I’m testing, seeing whether he’ll pull away or stay put, get defensive or let me do whatever I want. I can tell I do something to him either way. He probably has a crush and I can totally use that to my advantage to make a move on him. I could probably go so far as to take him home as a one night stand. But of course the voices have something to say about that.  
[ _You asshole._ ]  
( _Don’t you dare take advantage of such an innocent kid._ ) I give an aggravated sigh through my nose and lean back from him a little. He relaxes slightly and I now notice how tense he had been.  
‘ _But I really wanna’ take him home._ ’ I whine. I can almost feel White shrug like ‘too bad so sad’.

I reach out a hand to swipe a few sweaty strands of his light brown hair off his forehead, studying his pretty features. Small nose, big eyes, and the cute mole on his chin. The mole really grabs my attention. I have the sudden urge to scrape my teeth along it and make him gasp. His lips are parted on small quick breaths, his heart probably pounding if my theory of his crush on me is true. A smile pulls at my lips.  
‘ _God he’s cute._ ’  
[ _His cute voice would sound great calling out our name._ ]

My dick twitches in interest and I pull completely away. Peter’s eyes are startled and his fingers fidget with his mask that’s gripped in his hands. 

“Anytime you need help on a mission don’t be afraid to call me okay?” I try not to sound too hopeful. He gives a jerky nod and my smile grows fond. I want to slap myself for being such a sap. “I really enjoy working with you, Webhead.” I give him a playful wink and noogie his already messy hair, pushing his head away teasingly. His hands jerk up to his head as he cries,  
“Hey!” But he’s laughing as he says the word, his grin lighting up his whole face, the apple of his cheeks- already flushed from me being so close to his brightens to a brighter shade. My heart throbs something painful in my chest.  
“You have my number if you need it Spidey.” I say as a goodbye. He looks up at me with big, mournful eyes and he nods again. 

As I press a location into my teleporter, I swear I hear him mutter,  
“I like working with you too.” 

~~o -> 0

“I can’t get him out of my heaad~!” I complain to Weasel and he fixes an odd look at me.  
“Why don’t you just fuck a hot chick? Distract yourself.” I shake my head hopelessly.  
“I tried that.” I say. “Her moans weren’t nearly as cute as his.” Weasel barks a laugh and I shoot him a glare that shuts him up.  
“You didn’t even do anything with him though,” He points out and I shrug.  
“I can imagine.”  
“Okay,” He says, holding up a finger. “I’ve got the cure. You sir, have got it bad. You should drown yourself in work.” I nod.  
“I’ve been working on flushing Calvin Millfore out of Malaysia, but I haven’t had any fucking luck.” I run my hand over my bald head, sheathed to look like my unscarred self, it just looks like I ran my hand through my hair, and it didn’t move at all because I use really strong hair gel. “I’ve got one last idea but it’s gonna’ cost me a shit load.”  
“You have an expensive connection?” Weasel gasps, falsely surprised. “I’m surprised you can’t just threaten their life.” I roll my eyes over-exaggeratingly.  
“Some things aren’t that easy.” I explain and he nods sadly, as if he relates hard core. 

I snort and lean back in my chair.  
“I need five grand.” I mumble, more to myself than anything else. Weasel nearly drops the glass he was filling.  
“Jesus.” He breathes and I let out a laugh.  
“And that’s just the down payment!” I howl. Weasel’s eyes widen even further.  
“You can’t afford that!” He exclaims. I quirk a disbelieving eyebrow at him.  
“A few jobs and I can.” I explain and Weasel pauses.  
“I didn’t know you made so much.”  
“Did you think I got paid in cinnamon buns?” I ask in answer as I get up from my stool, slapping a twenty onto the counter and throwing him a wink. “I’ll come by to get my pay.” I say and he nods, pocketing the bill as I leave. 

~~o -> 0

I rub the blood on my fingers onto the leg of my suit and glance around at the bodies lying around me limp on the ground. I take my gold card out of my pocket and smack a kiss to it. It’s been three days since I had the conversation about Peter with Weasel and I took his advice, doing a job every day since then. I just finished my third assignment. I’ll have a little over five grand when I turn in my card. 

I teleport to the bar to get my money, before teleporting to my apartment. I appear in the middle of my living room, swaying on my feet a moment. I shed my suit and throw it into the laundry basket. I look around for my phone before remembering that it’s in the pocket of my suit and groaning as I dig through the fabric until I grip the familiar rectangular shape and drag it out. 

I flip through my contacts and tap the one that says ‘Kitty’.  
“Hello?” A deep, Malaysian accented voice answers.  
“Hey Kitty!” I chirp. There’s a sigh on the other line.  
“What do you want Deadpool?”  
“I’ve got five grand.” I smile. “You know what I want.”  
“You better be glad you have a good reputation or it would be a lot more expensive than five grand.” He explains. I shrug.  
“You mean a _bad_ reputation.”  
[ _Bad like badass as fuck!_ ]  
Kitty ignores me and continues on,  
“He will be arriving in a private jet in forty-eight hours. A few of my men will be with him. You will pay them.”  
“Yepyepyep.” I say in my best impression of Ducky from ‘The land before time’. He must not get the reference because he doesn't laugh.  
( _That’s probably not the reason why he’s not laughing._ )

~~o -> 0

I’m poised with a sniper rifle at the top of the tower of a private airway area. Here’s what I’m planning: First I’ll take out Kitty’s men, so that will leave Millfore unprotected. The rifle gripped in my hands, which I’m not the best at but have used a few times before, is loaded with darts instead of bullets. 

[ _Remember when we ran into The WInter Soldier that one time?_ Yellow suddenly pipes up. I nod. That I do. I was in Ohio doing some business about a year back when on the roof of a suspicious-looking bar was the famous sniper crouched down behind the ledge of the rooftop. He had been wearing a pair of cargo pants that sinfully cupped his ass and a plain black t-shirt that stretched across his shoulders. His shoulder-length hair had been swept back in a messy bun and even though he had on a black mask that covered from his eyebrows to his chin, he looked oddly casual. I had got the feeling he was on a personal mission. Not much had been said between us, but I did watch the way he used the gun, almost like it was another limb instead of a weapon, and learned a little from him. After a while, the soldier has glanced over at me, face wiped of expression and said, 

“Do you need something.”  
“I need to have my cock up your ass.” Was the first thing my smart mouth thought was wise to say to a sniper.  


Both the WInter Soldier’s index finger twitched but besides that he didn’t move, like he was having trouble deciding whether to shoot me, or find me amusing. 

“Do you hit on every guy with a loaded gun?” He’d asked.  
“Only the stupidly hot ones.” I’d answered. He took pause and side-eyed me where I was crouched next to him. He sighed out of his nose.  
“Are you always this openly gay?” He’d asked, returning his gaze to peer through the scope.  
“I’m not gay.” I say quickly. “I don’t really care about gender. As long as it feels good and one of us has a hole.” The Winter Soldier scrunched his nose up slightly at my choice of words. He muttered something in Russian and I grinned. “Yep, I’m always pretty lewd.” This surprised him enough that his chin jerked in my direction and his eyebrows narrowed. He had probably been suspicious that I knew Russian. “Do you speak Russian in bed?” I’d asked him, leaning back on my knees. “Like when you’re getting your dick sucked or getting pounded into the mattress?”I had definitely been pushing his buttons, but despite that his ears were flushing a tad pink at the tips. How cute is that. 

“Do you ever shut up?” He’d growled out in Russian. I flashed him a grin.  
“Nope. But I’m Deadpool, nice to meet cha’.” I held out my hand, which he’d looked at, readjusted his hands on the rifle, and ignored. I’d smoothly took my hand back. “I can’t die.”  
“So I’ve heard.” He’d said in a low voice.  
“Oh, you know who I am?” I’d said, truly surprised.  
“I could see that gaudy suit from miles away.” This actually made me laugh.  


“Yeah, well.” I’d said. “Us heros like gaudy huh? Captain America sure does.” The Winter Soldier’s muscles tensed. “Oh I am a total superhero matchmaker.” I’d crowed. “I should host a game show.” He didn’t respond to that. I’d hummed. “Didn’t you used to be a real person?” I’d asked, which probably wasn’t a good idea but hey, I’m full of bad idea. He didn’t answer again so I went on. “Like, before the war? I talked to a few war veterans some time ago who claimed they’d known the Winter Soldier when he was a sargent. They said he’d been a good guy. Funny, brave, supportive, a good leader.” My tone had been gentle, but as I finished speaking those words, his gun had went off, and I’m sure he’d hit his target. Then he’d left his gun on the stand to throw himself at me. He’d pinned me to the ground with his metal arm and drew a knife, which I had already spotted on him when I’d first walked up behind him, with his flesh one and held it to my throat. He was leaned in close enough that I could smell his breath (it smelled minty, like he’d been chewing gum) as he hissed, 

“I think you should keep your nose from where it doesn’t belong.”  
“I wanted to know though,” I’d said lightly. “I can’t die, so I usually do as I please.” His top lip had curled up.  
“There’re things a lot worse than dying.” He whispered, and, despite myself, I had been feeling a little angry, and sexually frustrated.  


“Oh trust me,” I’d said with a devious grin. “I know cupcake.” Just as an indignified expression crossed his features at the use of the pet name, I’d grabbed his flesh hand and twisted hard enough to hear a tendon snap. He’d grunted, probably more in surprise than pain. I’d rolled us over with as much momentum as I could muster. His metal hand had still been gripping my shoulder though, and as he went to shove me away, I’d grabbed his elbow and snapped it against the concrete of the roof. I pushed down on it until I heard the metal groan quietly under the weight and his fingers started twitching, obviously confused. Disarmed, and caught off guard by my sudden strength and hostility, the WInter Soldier was gasping for air, which I had successfully knocked from his lungs. His flesh arm was shoved up under his ribcage, pinned by his own weight, which had left me with a free hand to work with. I used said arm to snatch the black mask off of his face, uncovering startlingly striking features. A square jaw, small nose, beautiful gray eyes, and pretty pretty lips. Lips that he had chewing on and were red. His hair had almost completely fallen out of the bun it’d been in and fanned around his head. Lord have mercy on my soul. I’d groaned. 

“Almost all the superheroes are lookers but they don’t have anything on you, do they? Are you Russian?” I quirked my head to the side and snapped my finger. “No, Romanian? Right?” 

The WInter Soldier simply glared with steely eyes.

“Man I wish I was still hot.” I’d breathed. “I’d totally be able to win you into my bed.” That’s when his arm creaked in distress and freed itself from my hold. He punched me in the face with it, knocking me back about four feet, and jumped up into a defensive stance. He snatched up his mask off the concrete and shoved it back on. I sat up in a ‘paint me like one of your French girls’ position and watched him (his ass) as he took down his sniper rifle and threw it across his back. 

“Well,” I’d said as he seemingly looked around. I held up a black hair tie and he stomped over to me to pluck it from in between my fingers. “I think you and Cap should hook up again, catch up over some coffee, ya’ know?” He continued to ignore me as he put his hair up. “You’re a grouch.” I’d said matter of factly. “Grumpycat.” I’d grinned to myself at that. “Awh! That suits you so well! Totally calling you Grumpycat now.” He’d shot one more deadly glare at me through his mask before sliding down the ladder attached to the side of the building.Ahh, good times.]  
( _Yeah but right now you need to focus on the jet landing before you lose your shot._ ) White draws me from my thoughts and I look through the scope. I shoot twice at the first guy, who is one of five guards surrounding Millfore, landing a dart in his shoulder the second try. After a few seconds, he collapsed to the ground in a heap, and I ducked below the wall of the tower, avoiding the panicked seeking eyes of the other men.

I shoot back up and pull the trigger about thirteen more times to take down the four remaining men. Thank god I didn’t accidentally shoot Millfore, who’s running back inside the jet. 

I take the elevator back down the tower, stepping over the innocent employees there that I had rendered unconscious on my way up. I burst through the double glass doors and booked it as fast as I can. The engines are turning, as if planning for a take off, but I run up the ramp and- 

There’s at least fifteen more guards on the small jet, and they all attack me at once. Two guys threw themselves at me and I got one in a headlock and dodged the other one. I swung the guy in the hold around, his feet kicking a couple of guards in the chest knocking them back a few feet. 

Just as I’m about to teleport out of there and retreat from the trap, a hand yanks me back by my collar and I feel a prick at the base of my neck. My defense moves turn sluggish. I slur,  
“What’d you say about my mom?” as I swing and slow punch at a blurry face. The edges of my vision turn black.  
( _Ruh-roh._ ) White voices right before I pass out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated! Especially comments


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated in like four months ; ) you may kill me in the comments BUT. I think you'll really like this chapter? If you don't ship Steve and Bucky you may wanna skip over that part BUT there is some smut, not a lot because that's saved for the next chapter, which I've already written, which has smut, between Wade and Peter, oh my god finally please love me and read my fic and leave comments, enjoy reading.

Playlist: Pink Season by Filthy Frank/Pink Guy

Steve Rogers steps into the meeting room and slides into the chair next to Natasha.   
“Why’d Tony call us here?” He whispers to her and she raises her eyebrows at him and shrugs, before nodding to something across the room. Steve looks up and follows her gaze. He takes pause, taking in Spider-man in his familiar red and blue suit, standing at the front of the room. He’s sort of wringing his hands. Though in a little more of a casual way. He rubs the palms of his gloves together and then cross his fingers together, before pulling them away from each other and wrapping the fingers of his left hand around his right hand and then switching. He seems worried about something. 

Steve makes an ‘oh’ face at Natasha who gives him a ‘duh’ look. Steve rises from his seat to cross the room to Spider-man. He holds out his hand.   
“I’m Steve Rogers.” He says with a polite smile. He can almost see Natasha rolling her eyes out of the corner of his eye. Spider-man looks at his hand for a moment (at least Steve thinks he does since he can’t actually see his eyes), before snapping out of it and gripping Steve’s hand in return.   
“Uh, Spider-man.” Steve kind of recognises the voice but he figures not. Steve quirks an eyebrow. He’s surprised he’s keeping his identity a secret, since he can figure the only reason he’s here is to join the Avengers.   
“Nice to meet you.”  
“You too…” 

Steve stands there awkwardly for a second, before he tilts his head in understanding.   
“I don’t know if this is rude, but are you um, a kid?” Spider-man jumps, or maybe flinches, at that. Steve instantly regrets asking but he was curious so he doesn’t backtrack, just waits for him to answer.   
“I’m legally an adult.” He argues, crossing his arms over his chest and Steve cracks a smile, fighting to keep a snort in.   
“Eighteen then?” Spider-man huffs and his head moves very slightly, in a way that makes Steve think he was rolling his eyes. 

“Cap!” Tony shoots from the doorway as he walks into the meeting room. He glances around. “Where’s Clint, Samson, and Icy Lady Gaga?” Steve frowns.   
“I dunno’ where Sam and Clint are, but could you please stop calling Bucky that?” Tony snorts and ignores his protests.   
“Is Bruce here?”   
“Tony he’s still on vacation.” Natasha reminds him.   
“Ah,” He voices before yelling, “FRIDAY! Tell the others to get their duck butts in here before I have all of their ice cream taken out of their fridges.” 

Sam opens the thick wooden door at that moment.   
“Uh-uh you aren't takin’ my ice cream Tony. I was on my way anyways jeez.” Tony points at him and gives him a glare. Sam spots Spider-man and his eyebrows almost reach his hairline. He looks at Steve and Natasha for answers but they just shrug. He holds up a hand in greeting at Spider-man. “Hey man, how’s it goin’?” Spider-man shrugs and uncrosses one arm long enough to wave a hand in return. Sam sits down next to Steve. He glances to the front of the room to see Tony talking quietly to Spider-man before he leans into ask his friends, “Is he pissy or…?” 

Steve whispers back, “I think he may have ADHD or something.”   
“No,” Natasha cuts off. “He’s autistic.” Sam’s eyebrows rise even higher. They don’t question her since she’s an expert at reading people, facial expressions, fighting styles, mental oddities.   
“Huh.” Steve says. “That’s kind of cool.”   
“Yeah but,” Natasha continues. “I think he might be really smart.” Sam looks a little confused so she clarifies. “You watch Big Bang Theory?” Same and Stev both nod. “Kinda’ like Sheldon. Only younger, and less hyper. He does have ADHD though too Steve, good catch.” Steve looks a little proud. “And ADD too probably.” Natasha adds after studying Spider-man for a few seconds.

Clint then bursts through the door, panting and huffs out,   
“Don’t take my ice cream!” Tony abruptly stops the conversation he was having with Spider-man.  
“Ah the last two are finally here. Did you have trouble getting to class boys?” He asks. That’s when Steve spots Bucky over Clint’s shoulder. He can’t help but smile to himself, imagining Clint run past Bucky down a hallway.   
“ _What are you doing?_ ” Bucky asked Clint in Steve’s imagination.   
“ _Going to the meeting room before Tony takes my ice cream!_ ” Imaginary Clint called back over his shoulder.   
“ _Oh hell no._ ” Bucky would mutter under his breath before following Clint. Everyone knows how fond Bucky is of sweets. 

Clint takes a seat next to Natasha and Bucky… Well, Bucky eyes the four of them sitting side by side at the table, his gaze lingering on Steve, before he sits three seats away from Clint. Bucky then rolls his wrist at Tony in a ‘let’s get this over with’ way. Tony clears his throat and claps a hand onto Spider-man’s shoulder.   
“Spidey here is worried about our good, wholesome friend Deadpool. So I’ve decided to put a little team together and save his sorry ass.” 

Next to Steve, Sam groans over-dramatically and Natasha makes a disgusted noise. Spider-man, at the front of the room, crosses his arms. Steve figures that if he’s going this far to help Wade, that they’re probably close and, maybe it’s not such a good idea to piss off one of New York’s most prized possessions. With this is mind, he elbows both Sam and Natasha on either side of him.   
“The fuck-” Sam starts before cutting himself off. 

“Deadpool?” Bucky speaks.   
“Yeah, mhm.” Answers Tony even though Bucky seems to be talking to Spider-man and not him. Spider-man nods.   
“Red suit?”   
“Yep, yep, red suit.” Tony answers again and Spider-man nods again.   
“I’m in.” Bucky says simply. This throws Steve for a loop. So not only does he know who Deadpool is, but now he’s jumping at the opportunity to see him?  
“If James is going, then I’m going.” Steve says in his steady Cap voice, despite not liking the way the word ‘James’ sits on his tongue. Since they got Bucky back, he’d ordered him to start calling him by his actual name. Bucky’s head whips around so that he can fix an icy glare on Steve. Steve just smiles back fondly, taken by the way Bucky’s hair falls out of his top-knot to frame around his face with the action. 

“We’re like ninety percent positive that he’s been taken by this guy named Calvin Millfore. He’s a big deal in Malaysia. Like, really big. He runs a lot of the drug trading market in the biggest cities. Almost half of them.” Tony glances to Spider-man, who now leans on the back wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. He nods at Tony to continue. “Anyways, so we’re both pretty sure that that idiot Deadpool went and tried to kill him without any backup, and Spider-man here has asked for our help to get his ass back. James is in, Steve. Anyone else?”

Steve glances at Spider-man, a bit surprised that he would be friends with Deadpool since, as far as the Avengers know, he doesn’t kill anyone while he’s working. Deadpool on the other hand… 

“Are we going all the way to Malaysia?” Sam asks. Tony shaked his head.   
“He has a few bases in America that we know of. His biggest one, is here in New York and we’re pretty sure that’s where he would’ve taken him.” Sam glances at Steve and raises his eyebrows.   
“Uhm, I think I’ll sit this one out.” Spider-man uncrosses his arms and pinches at the hem of his gloves. Clint asks where the base is in New York and Natasha leans into Steve slightly and tells him,   
“I think he’s really young.” Steve nods.   
“He sounds young.” He whispers back.   
“Yeah but like,” She gives a little snicker. “His body language is that of a little kid. Like a ten year old.” Steve hums and tilts his head, studying the way Spider-man’s shoulders are hunched and his head ducked low, like he’s watching his hands as he fidgets.   
“I see it. I wonder how old he is.” 

“Widow?” Tony calls to her. “Are you coming?” Natasha glances at Clint, who shrugs. She shakes her head. “Okay so just… James, Steve, and me.” He looks to Spider-man, whose shoulders straighten some so he looks more open. “That good?” Spider-man nods.   
“When’s the mission?” Steve asks.   
“Well,” Tony says. “Soon. Since Spidey thinks he was taken within the last three days.”   
“Why not go today then?” Bucky speaks up from across the table, stretching his arms high above his head, his casual white t-shirt riding up and giving Steve a heart-stopping glimpse of a tan stretch skin covering a toned stomach.  
“Well,” Tony repeats.   
“It’s only noon.” Bucky adds. “That’s enough time to save one guy.” Spider-man shifts forward and taps on Tony’s shoulder. Tony turns his head so Spider-man can say something to him.   
“Spidey’s cool with that.” Tony announces to the rest of the Avengers. Steve wonders why Spider-man didn’t just tell them himself. Tony claps his hands together. “Let’s get suited up.” 

Bucky stands and glances over his shoulder at Clint, nodding his head to the door. Clint looks at Natasha with an apologetic expression before standing and following Bucky out of the meeting room. Tony raises his eyebrows at Natasha, who shrugs.   
“Since when were Clint and Bucky close?” Steve asks her.   
“Ever since he caught Barnes stealing frozen kitkats out of the main kitchen's freezer and sarcastically called him The Midnight Muncher.” 

Spider-man snorts from the front of the room and Sam barks out a laugh.   
“He loves sweets.” Steve says on a soft chuckle as he stands. “Let’s get ready then.” He looks to Spider-man. “Do you have everything you need?” He nods. “Weapons?” He nods again. “First aid?” He nods again. “Okay.” Steve looks to Natasha and Sam for them to follow him out. As he turns to leave, he sees Spider-man tug on the sleeve of Tony’s shirt to get his attention and says something to him in a low voice. Steve catches the door as they leave so it doesn’t slam shut. 

“Okay that’s really cute.” Natasha says suddenly.   
“Hm?” Steve asks as they press the button to call the elevator.   
“Spider-man only talks to Tony.” Natasha further explains and Steve answers,   
“No, well, he did say hello to me.” Natasha gives him a look and Sam chuckles under his breath like, ‘Yeah Natasha’.  
“And didn’t say anything else the whole time. The only person he’ll _start_ a conversation with is Tony.” Natasha says anyways. Steve shrugs as they enter the elevator together.  
“You were probably right about him being autistic.”   
“I am right about him being autistic. Probably adhd too. I was thinking though. I wonder if he has adhd because of his reflexes.” Steve gives her an odd look. “Most people with adhd have better reflexes than other people.”   
“Ooh,” Sam says in realization. “I dunno’ Natasha, you’re the one who’s good at reading people.” She rolls her eyes.   
“Wait what do you mean by his reflexes?” Steve asks, looking at Sam.   
“Spider reflexes man.” The elevator dings at the twenty-third floor and Steve steps off with a small wave. “Oh okay I see. Well Imma’ go bust my ass.” He gives Sam and Natasha a grin. “See you.”

Steve walks to his door and fishes his keys out of his front pockets.   
“Bucky!” Steve exclaims, surprised. “I-I mean, James. What are you doing here?”   
James looks over at Steve from where he was standing in front of Steve’s open fridge, still bent at the waist and knees where he had been inspecting the shelves of the fridge, dressed completely in his cargo pants and gear, gun slung across his back. Steve’s gaze swept over his form, lingering on his thighs and backside before settling on his face. 

Bucky swipes a can of diet Dr.Pepper out of the fridge, inspects its label before raising an eyebrow at Steve.   
“You only have diet?” Steve pauses, still trying to figure out what Bucky is doing in his apartment, and how he got in. Bucky tsks and straightens, shutting the door of the fridge with a bump of his hip. Steve can almost feel his pupils dilate and he awkwardly clears his throat and tries to casually lean on the dining table.   
“Why are you here?” He finally prods again. Bucky sigh-hums in a way that makes think he is not here to play poker and have a few drinks. He swirls the soda can and takes a sip before swallowing and meeting Steve’s gaze. 

“I don’t want you to come on the mission.” He says finally. Steve’s eyes widen.  
“What do you mean?” Steve asks, a bit taken aback. Bucky rolls his eyes and leans his hip against the counter. Steve swallows and moves his gaze to the floor. Bucky really needs to stop doing that.   
“I mean,” Bucky starts. “You need to stop following me around.” Steve feels his eyes narrow as something hot builds up in his chest.   
“I’m not ‘following you around’.” Steve argues, curling his fingers at the words ‘following you around’. “I’m helping you.”   
“I don’t need your help.” Bucky says coldly, knocking back the remnants of the soda into his mouth and looks at his left hand as he crushes the can in his metal fist. 

Steve runs a big hand over his face.  
“Everyone needs help, James. In some way. I’m just going to have your back when we’re fighting.”  
“I don’t trust anyone to have my back.” Bucky spits at him.   
“Well you’re going to have to trust me because I’m going one this mission and I’m going on every mission with you after this. I never protected you before but like hell I’m going to let anyone take you away again!” Bucky’s face screws up in an expression of pained anger and it makes Steve’s heart hurt. Steve steps forward to move Bucky’s hair from where it falls in front of his face. Bucky flinches away and Steve lowers his hand. 

Steve knows his feelings toward his best friend are not healthy. The oddly romantic and lustful feelings that he has toward him are odd, since he’s never been attracted to men before, but it’s the obsessive protectiveness and determination to surround him in a indestructible bubble of Steve that’s unhealthy. He has night terrors that keep him awake almost every night of Bucky falling from that train. 

“I told you before that I’m _not_ Bucky. Your best friend died that day.” Steve was already shaking his head.   
“You’re lying-”  
“I’m not!” Bucky yells, voice gruff and deep, cheeks flushed as he punches his fist into the counter.   
“And even if you aren’t!” Steve yells over him, then pauses and waits for Bucky to take a few deep, shuddering breaths as he stares at his own fist and the counter he broke from the force of his anger. “I feel differently for you than I did Bucky.” Steve’s voice is softer now as he leans his head in close to try and see Bucky’s face through his hair. He’s a little startled when he sees his gray eyes staring straight at him. His expression is unreadable, but no longer as angry as he’d been moments before. “I know you’re hurting Buck.” Steve whispers, reaching up to card his fingers through Bucky’s dark hair. 

When Bucky makes no move to pull away, Steve wraps an arm around Bucky’s shoulders and holds him close, looking up slightly so he can tuck the top of his head under his chin.   
“Just let me take care of you. I’ll be good to you, I promise.” He feels Bucky’s finger clench at the material of his thin t-shirt and Steve lets his eyes flutter shut as he holds his best friend. He slowly moves his head so he can press his lips against his temple. Bucky tenses but still does not pull away. “If you can’t trust anyone, if you could only ever trust one person, let it be the person that loves you the most out of anyone else in the world and I promise, I _swear_ Bucky. That person is me. I would take an infinite amount of bullets for you and I’ll shoulder your pain.” He feels the muscles in Bucky’s shoulders tense so Steve rushes on before Bucky can say what Steve already knows he’s going to say. “It doesn’t have to be only your responsibility! I _want_ to help you. I _want_ to hurt for you. I know you don’t want to hurt anyone, but rejecting me would hurt ten time worse than any bullet could so- Please Bucky.” 

Bucky takes a slow, deliberate breath and doesn’t say anything. Steve squeezes his eyes shut. He’s not arguing, so Steve takes his reaction as a positive one. He opens his eyes to crane his head close to Bucky’s, who blinks up at him with heavy lids. Steve brushes his lips against the peak of Bucky’s right cheekbone. Bucky’s eyes flutter shut and Steve gentle noses at his cheek, his hands sliding down the man’s shoulders to rest on his hips. Then he stops, hovering there, their faces close, their breaths mingling together. A few beats pass as Steve studies his best friend’s face. His chin cleft, strong jaw, tall cheeks, beautifully shaped eyes, square forehead partially hidden under his hair. 

Bucky’s eyes have tightened closed in mild distress. Steve gives a little breathy chuckle, assuming he’s wondering what the fuck Steve is doing. His eyes pop open, a defensive expression on his face, but before he can say anything Steve presses his lips against his. Bucky’s lips were slightly parted as if he was about to say something, and he was mildly pissed, so the kiss starts out chaste and sloppy as Bucky decides whether he wants to kiss him back or deck him upside the head. 

Steve gently brushes his knuckles against Bucky’s jaw, pushing his hair behind his ear and trailing his finger softly down his neck. It tickles Bucky, who squirms and makes a hiccuping noise as he holds down what would have been a very embarrassingly unmanly and unacceptable giggle. Steve smiles gently against Bucky’s lips, who has relaxed slightly, the kiss slower now, gentler. Steve tentatively swipes his tongue along Bucky’s lower lip. Another, softer noise comes from Bucky. Like a slightly audible sigh, and Steve gets a shock of something in his belly.

Steve reaches a hand up to tangle in Bucky’s hair as he plunges his tongue between Bucky’s sweetly parted lips. Steve explores Bucky’s mouth and Bucky lets him, only actively sliding his own tongue against Steve’s once the entire inside of his mouth had been tasted. Steve gently pulls at the tendrils gripped in his fingers when Bucky tilts his head to deepen their kiss, settling his warm palms against Steve’s stomach. Steve does a little trick with his tongue where he grinds it against Bucky’s and dominates his mouth. Bucky lets out another small noise, this one more like a grunt, and Steve’s hand yanks at his hair on it’s own accord. Bucky makes a choked off noise, like he’s holding in a long groan, and Steve realizes that he likes his hair being pulled. 

Steve feels Stevie Jr. starting to strain against the fly of his pants. That, mixed with Bucky’s vocals, has him tugging sharply on Bucky’s hair so that Steve can get to his neck. Steve runs a wet strip over the vein that runs just underneath Bucky’s ear up to his earlobe to tug at the soft flesh with his teeth. Bucky gently digs his nails into Steve’s hips, egging him on. And just as Steve is about to rub his hips against Bucky’s hands, FRIDAY interrupts them. 

“Mr.Rogers, Mr.Stark and Spiderman are waiting for you to join them in the Stark lobby.” 

Steve lets out an aggravated groan. They were on a mission. He’d almost forgotten. Bucky huffs a laugh through his nose and give Steve a knowing smirk. He glances at Steve’s casual clothes and raises an eyebrow.   
“Better get dressed or Captain America is going to be late.” 

Steve answers with a growl and leans forward for another kiss. Bucky cheekily turns his head to the side, so Steve kisses his cheek instead of his lips. Bucky makes humming sound and brushes his lips over Steve’s jaw before nipping at it a running an apologetic tongue over the spot before pulling out of Steve’s embrace and Steve fucking _swears_ that Bucky does this little cocky hip-wiggle as he walks away, throwing a,   
“We’re gonna’ be late Captain.” over his shoulder as he walks out of the front door to Steve’s apartment. 

Steve braces his hands on the granite countertop and takes a few deep breaths. After a few still moments make it clear that Steve’s raging erection is in fact, not going to magically disappear, he quickly gets himself off, cleans himself up, and struggles to get himself into his Captain America stealth suit. 

~~~~

Steve glances over his shoulder to the building to their left, where he knows Bucky is poised atop of, sniper set up and pointed at the building in front of them. The base where Millfore is set up is big and gray and just overall, not a happy looking place. He wonders for a minute if his employees ever complain about the working conditions but he finally decides that no, drug-dealing kidnappers probably do not complain about working in a drug-dealer neighborhood. 

Steve feels safe with Bucky at his back, so he confidently turns forward to aim his gaze as Spider-Man, who still has talked to no one but Stark since they’ve been out on the field, but stands on alert at the front of the group. He currently has a hand held up and his eyes closed, and Steve glances to Stark to ask what he’s doing, but Tony just shushes him. Steve can’t help but feel like a middle schooler that just got caught sneaking a green bean while the family was saying grace. 

Suddenly Spider-Man’s eyes pop open and he whispers to Stark in a hushed voice that Steve can easily hear:   
“He’s underground. It sounds like a cellar thing.” Tony nods and catches Steve’s confused gaze.  
“Spider senses.” He tells him as explanation. Steve nods stupidly, adjusting a strap on his wrist. 

“Okay,” Steve can hear Tony’s voice at his side and in his ear, so he must have turned on the mic so Bucky can hear what he’s saying. “So here’s the plan. It’s very vague, because we don’t know how many people are inside but, this is a rescue mission only. Don’t worry about taking people down, just try to get through the building and save Deadpool. Spidey says he’s down in the cellar below the ground floor. Steve, you and me are gonna’ make sure Spider-man can get through okay?” Steve nods. “Midnight Muncher, you just make sure they don’t try to sneak him out of the building ‘kay?” Bucky gives a,   
“Uh-huh.” and it sounds so good in Steve’s ear that goosebumps raise up on his skin. 

The three of them, Steve, Tony, and Spider-Man move in their formation around to the back of the building to breach a not-so-obvious entrance. As soon as Tony’s palm presses into the handle of the door a blaring alarm shocks Steve’s ears. He glances at Tony who says to the team through the head piece:   
“It’s fine keep moving.” 

The guards are dressed in S.W.A.T-looking uniforms. But instead of being gray they’re black and they don’t wear helmets. Steve knocks the first two unconscious with one swing of his fist and Tony gives him a thumbs up. 

As more guards swarm them, Steve is momentarily distracted by how swiftly Spider-Man is moving through the throngs of people, snapping webbing out of his wrists and kicking a guy in the head before swinging himself onto the ceiling and crawling around the corner over everyone else's heads. It makes Steve feel a little weak in comparison so he whips out his shield to bulldozer past guards in order to keep up with the nimble spider. He can he the whining of Tony’s repulsors coming from his left as he also tries to keep up with Spider-Man. 

Steve rounds the corner a few seconds behind and glances up and around. Spider-Man is only a few steps ahead, landing a powerful-looking punch to a guy’s jaw. Steve cuts him off though and swings his shield around in one smooth motion and knocks the surrounding people back a few steps. There’s not too many left of them, it’s not like there’s an endless onslaught of opponents. There’s maybe eleven still standing. Steve launches himself at them as Spider-Man does this boss ass double-flip thing straight over their heads and pads off down the hallway. 

The alarm is still blaring loudly over the speaker that apparently hang in every corner the building has and it’s giving Steve a headache. He groans, which turns into a yell as he punches a guy in the face. 

Steve’s gaze sweeps the area until he finds Tony, looking like he just now stopped fighting as he pops the glass panel up to reveal his face.   
“He get through?” He asks and Steve nods, chest heaving.   
“I think he already went down.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (͡ ͡° ͜ つ ͡͡°)


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anyways so this chapter is laughs, then smut and fluff. The action of this fic is kind of concluded (I mean if I continue it on longer there'll be more because hello they're superheros). But anyways, I'm not sure if I want to drag this thing out or? If I do then there's going to be some conflict and feels and more Stucky and Sam and Tony, and Thor and Bruce who are like the only avengers characters I haven't included in this fic so far. So should I continue it? Please leave comments below about what you think or if you have any ideas to which direction this story could go because I could use some help/inspiration. 
> 
> Also someone asked if I have a beta and no, I don't lol. I take care of everything myself so I'm sorry if there are mistakes. I try my best to catch them all when reading back over the chapter before publishing them. 
> 
> As always, Enjoy!

*Peter's P.O.V*  
The cellar is lit by bright fluorescent lights and they hurt my eyes. I squint in the under them, taking in the plain gray walls, white tile, and plain square containment rooms, calling out a tentative,  
“Deadpool…?” I peek in the small window of one of the rooms. Inside there’s a lone bench and nothing else. There’s a small flap in the door that I assume is to push through food in. “Solitary confinement?” I voice, head whipping around as I quickly look into each room, letting out a relieved sigh when I see Wade, in all of his bald, scarred glory, sitting in nothing but a hospital gown on the bench, head leaned back against the wall and eyes closed. 

“Wade!” I yell through the door. His eyes fly open and his gaze lands on me, a smile splitting his face and I find myself grinning back through my mask. Deadpool stands and walks over to the door, placing his hands against it, a small warm smile slowly replacing the grin.  
“You came to save me Baby Boy.” His voice comes through a small speaker above the door, sounding a lot louder and more intimate than it should. And that nickname does something for me, causing my cheeks to heat. I wrap my fingers around the door handle and turn but- It doesn’t give. My panicked eyes flick up to Wade’s through the glass. “Do you have the key?” Wade must be able to tell by my expression because he says anyway: “Oh shit.”

Tony and Steve choose that moment to rush down the metal stairs, their footsteps echoing throughout the cellar. Wade looks to them and then to me, an amused smile ghosting over his features.  
“I see you’ve made friends.” He says and I narrow my eyes at him, more embarrassed than mad. 

“Back up Spidey, I’m gonna’ try to blow the door.” Tony says, coming up behind me, his suit clanking loudly with every step. I risk one more glance at Wade before backing up a few steps, actually bumping against Captain America, his chest solid against my shoulders, making me jump. I glance over my shoulder to see him smile good naturedly as he sets his hands on my shoulders to steady me. Tony’s repulsors whine, followed by a boom, and the door to Wade’s cell is knocked off it’s hinges. I flinch back when it does and then Wade is flying out, wrapping a sudden arm around my waist and yanking me away from Steve’s supportive hands. Wade being so close to me is making my heart nearly burst out of my chest. 

“Man do I hate solitary confinement! Whoo!” He exclaims, tone sarcastic and eyes narrowed, directed at Steve as he squeezes his arm that’s around me. I push at his hands and growl out,  
“Wade…”

Tony glances suspiciously between us for a second before saying,  
“Alright.” He flips the mask of his helmet back over his face. “I’d consider this mission a success.”  
“We haven’t even made it out of the building yet.” Steve points out. Deadpool barks out a laugh.  
“Hey Cap!” He says with a grin. “I didn’t know you could be funny!” Steve just gives him a dry smile. 

 

~~~

With The Winter Soldier covering us there was no way we weren’t going to make it out alive anyways but it just seemed to be the icing on the cake. The cake being Wade who’s been hanging all over me ever since we got him out of the cell. 

Wade is now shaking hands with Bucky, who has this little smile on his face as if they share an inside joke and Deadpool actually calls him Grumpycat, which makes Tony laugh and Steve lower his eyebrows into a troubled expression.  
“You know Clint calls him the Midnight Muncher.” Tony tells Deadpool, who asks why, and when Tony explains, he throws his head back and laughs a loud laugh. Bucky rolls his eyes and steps an inconspicuous step towards Steve, making a face as the wind blows Wade’s hospital gown up. And it’s in that moments that I realize, even though Tony may talk bad about Deadpool, may think low of him, he doesn’t necessarily dislike him. Actually I think they all get along pretty well. 

I cross my arms across my chest, feeling nervous again now that the rush of the rescue has calmed down, and also a little left out, but not being able to find the courage to go up and talk to everyone. I try to catch Tony’s eye as he talks to Deadpool and Captain America and when I finally do I wave with a hand and make jerk my chin in a way that tells him that I’m about to beat feet. He nods, an action that catches Wade’s attention, who turns to look at me. 

The smile he gives me makes me blush. It’s so… gentle and intimate, fond. He trots over to where I’m standing, leaving the other superheroes in the middle of the parking lot mid-conversation.  
“Hey Baby Boy.” And there’s that nickname again. It has me looking down at my feet and shuffling said feet to avoid eye contact that he can’t see through my mask. Wade tilts his head to lean in closer to where he’s face to face with me. “Can I buy you dinner?”

I nearly jump back at his words I’m so surprised. ‘ _Deadpool wants to take me to dinner in a hospital gown?_ ’ As if reading my thoughts he adds,  
“I’ll have to run by my apartment and grab clothes… And my wallet.”  
“Are you planning on walking?” I ask and he winces at the thought. I laugh and his head snaps up, a smile tugging at his lips. His reaction startles me.  
‘ _Is he_ that _happy to hear me laugh?_ ’ I sigh.  
“I’ll cover your cab, and meet you somewhere?” I ask tentatively. His eyes light up and he’s grinning as he says,  
“Yeah! “ He clears his throat. “I mean, yeah. Uhm, where do you want to eat at?” I shrug and he thinks for a second. “Okay I’ve got an idea. Just-just dress nice okay? Do you want me to pick you up or?” I pull at the edge of my glove.  
“We can just text the details.” I say, making a texting motion with my thumbs.  
He nods a little frantically. “Oh yeah, I forgot.”  
I smile and rock back on my heels. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” I tell him, flicking out my wrist to shoot webbing onto the corner of a building and lifting myself into the air. 

~~~

I’m currently staring into my closet for something ‘nice’ to wear. Deadpool had texted me to say that we were going to a restaurant called ‘View’ which, after a quick google, I found out that it’s a very fancy shmancy restaurant that you probably need to wear a suit to. I have one suit. It’s one that I wore to one of Aunt May’s friends weddings before. So it’s like, black tie. I run a hand down over my face and put it on anyways. It still fits me well, which makes me kind of mad because I haven’t worn it for a long time and you’d think an eighteen year old guy would grow but, no, apparently you stop growing when you reach the age of fifteen.

I look through my clothes two more times before I throw on a black t-shirt under the suit jacket. I let out a sigh, grab my phone out of my suit, look up different suit styles, before finally deeming my clothes appropriate. 

I then cross to my bathroom to glare at my hair in the mirror. It’s still sticking up in all different directions from my shower earlier. I take a second to pout at it before grabbing a comb out of the medicine cabinet and running it through the tangles. Gripping the bottle of gel, I squirt some of it into my palm. I can’t help but sniff it before working it through my hair, combing it back from my face. I smile at myself. Not a real smile, just seeing how I look when I do. I cringe. I hope my real smile is a whole lot better than my fake one because whoo. Does that make me want to run away from my own reflection.

I hear my phone vibrate from where I set it on the counter in the kitchenette and I turn off the bathroom light before padding out in my socks to glance at the text notification at the top of my screen.  
‘ **I’ll pay for your cab as pay back from before.** ’ I smile to myself and unlock my phone to answer.  
‘ **It was no prob. I’m about to head out the door now tho.** ’ His answer is almost immediate.  
‘ **See u inna bit** ’ 

I call in an uber so i have to wait a few minutes before I’m notified of it arriving in front of my building. I slip on my nice dress shoes, pressing my phone into my coat pocket and using the stairs instead of the elevator because it’s out of order. 

“Oooh, somebody got a date?” The guy driving says when I sit in the back seat. I offer him a shy half-smile, nervousness bubbling in my stomach. Dealing with the Avengers? I basically shut down, only able to talk to Tony and Wade. Normal everyday people still kind of freak me out. They still make me nervous but I’m not at that edge. I shift in my seat, feeling fidgety.  
“Yeah I guess I do.” I finally answer his friendly, harmless question. He grins at me in the rearview mirror, a dreadlock falling into his face and for some reason I’m put slightly more at ease.  
“Where to buddy?”  
“Uh,” I struggle to remember the name of the restaurant for a few seconds before it comes back to me. “...View?” The guy whistles low, impressed, glancing at my apartment building before raising his eyebrow at me as he pulls out of the lot.  
“You going all out or is she paying?” I pause, running my tongue over my bottom lip and forcing my mouth to work.  
“He’s paying.”  
“Man,” He complains. “I wish I had me a sugar daddy.” I completely surprise myself by laughing.  
“No, no it’s not like that. I mean it is a date I think but… He’s not- It’s not-” I break off into another giggle. ‘ _A giggle? Really Peter?_ ’

For a few more minutes we just have that laid-back small talk until he stops his car in front of a tall, very fancy-looking skyscraper in Times Square. I like this guy. I don’t feel as choked up around him as I do most people.  
“Good luck on your date.”  
“Thanks man.” I ask him his name, his name’s Javon, so that next time I call an uber I can contact him specifically, and he gives me one of those bro handshakes as I climb out of the back seat. I text Wade to let him know I’m here and he responds with:  
**’Im already at our table. Just tell them youre here with Ryan’**  
For a second I wonder why he he didn’t just use his real name but I suppose it’s because he’s Deadpool. 

In the lobby is a chandelier and red carpeting and when I quietly stutter the name ‘Ryan’ to her, the pretty lady with red lipstick at the pedestal kindly escorts me to the elevator and I have to ride to the top floor. I dunno’ about you but that sounds pretty schmancy to me. The escort tells another lady that almost looks exactly the same as the herself something that I can’t hear before the second woman flashes me a friendly white smile.  
“Right this way, sir.” She says graciously, holding an arm out for me to walk ahead of her. I hesitate because,  
‘ _How will I know where to go?_ ’ But she’s waiting and I find myself flustered but I walk forward anyway. I manage to nod jerkily after a few awkward long seconds of her standing there in the same pose, that smile plastered onto her face and walk in front of her. 

I round a corner and pause again, causing the woman behind me to knock against my back. She manages to catch herself and she waits for a moment as I stand there, chest seized as I look over all these people.  
‘ _Why did I agree to do this? This is not a good idea. I’m such an idiot. Such an idiot such an id-_ ’ But then I catch eyes with Wade who sits alone at a table for two. Wade, who has his sheath on so that he looks like himself but minus the scarring and plus a nicely taken care of beard and a head full of shiny hair, decked out in a maroon coloured suit. I freeze again.  
‘ _Can you freeze when you’re already frozen?_ ’  
He’s smiling at me, expectant and happy, with a little hint of something darker glinting at the back of his eyes. Damn he looks snazzy. He gives me a little wave from where he’s sitting across the room and my feet that were heavy as lead two seconds ago suddenly feel light as air as they move on their own accord over to my seat. 

As I sit down I say shakily, still a little unsure about the whole ‘very lot of people public place’ thing. God I can’t even think in full sentences.  
“It sure is busy here.” Deadpool- I mean Wade- nods at my words and says,  
“Usually you hafta’ make reservations a few weeks prior but I know some people.” He then flashes a crooked, almost boyish grin at me, straight white teeth on full display. I find myself huffing out a laugh.  
“I’m sure.” I reach for a menu sitting in the middle of the table and open it. My jaw drops at the print ‘ _ **THREE-COURSE PRIX-FIXE**_ ’ and the crazy words under it: ‘ _ **$89 per person, exclusive of tax & gratuity**_’  
“Ah,” Wade, who must be reading my shocked expression, voices. “Don’t worry about the price, just order whatever you want.” I glance up at him to protest (even though I can’t afford dinner for myself) but when I do, my eyes land on the glass over his shoulder and-  
“Whoa.”

Wade goes to glance over his shoulder but stops himself when he realizes what I’m looking at.  
“It is called ‘View’ for a reason Petey.” I suck in my bottom lip to chew on it for a moment as I stare at the lights of hundreds of tall skyscrapers over the expanse of New York. I relax my lips and look back to Wade to catch him staring at my mouth, eyes dark. I nervously run my hands over the white tablecloth set before me over the dark wood table, tilting my head at him slightly. He realizes I’m looking at him and his eyes jump up, seemingly startled. It pulls a smile at the corners of my lips and Wade says,  
“You look amazing by the way.” I take pause, surprised. I know I’m blushing as I stammer out a,  
“Y-you too…” This makes Wade snort but his lips stretch into a wide, amused smile anyways. “I-I mean it.” I say, suddenly feeling defensive. Wade reaches a hand across the table to set a hand over mine. I jump slightly in my seat. His hand is warm, but rough. A reminder of his scars. He winks.  
“I know you do Baby Boy. But this is just another mask.” I find myself saying,  
“I like you best with no mask.” Before I can think about what that might mean to him. To me. Wade blinks, a little confused frown on his face for a few quiet moments before he gives a breathy, disbelieving laugh.  
“You’re something else.” He finally decides on, pulling his hand away to gesture to the menu set open in front of me. “Have you decided what you want yet?”  
“Oh!” I exclaim, jerking to pick it up. “No I haven’t.”  
“It’s fine, we have time.” 

I study the menu options with a furrowed brow. I’m hungry, stomach feeling hollow and rumbling silently every few minutes but-  
‘ _ **Celery Rout Veloute**_ ’, ‘ _ **Foi Gras Ganache**_ ’, ‘ _ **Diver Scallop**_ ’... I have no idea what any of these mean. I let out a slow breath and close my eyes. 

Wade, seemingly engulfed in his menu leans forward slightly.  
“The quick charred tuna is really good.” He taps a finger against the words on my menu and I breathe a relieved,  
“Thank you… W-what are you getting for you main course?” My voice is tentative as I ask the question.  
“Mmm… I always get the steak.” This makes me smile. Steak suits him. “I get premium though… which has jalapeno chimichurri so it’s hot. They do have the sterling ribey too.” I nod and slowly close my menu.  
“I think I’ll just get that.” He gives me another smile before raising his chin and a hand to get a waitress’ attention.  
“S’cuse me missy, we’re ready to order.” 

The woman- another chick in red lipstick- comes over and politely takes our order. I end up getting the two that Wade recommended and I kind of feel like an idiot for it.  
“Are you in school?” Wade asks when she walks away. I look at him.  
“Uhm…” I bite my lip. “A science major.” Wade looks pleasantly surprised.  
“Really?” I nod quickly. “You seem like the really smart type.” He adds and I swallow nervously. 

Another waitress comes by and sets a bottle of wine down on the table, along with two glasses.  
“Anything else for you two?” She asks, clasping her hands together over the table.  
“Uh,” Wade glances to me. “Two waters too please.” He gives her a polite yet charming smile and I can practically see her squealing inside her brain. But she just nods.  
“Of course.”

Wade then proceeds to pour wine in each of our glasses. I eye him suspiciously across the table.  
“You don’t have to have any if you don’t want it.” Wade says quickly when he sees my expression. “I just figured- you’re eighteen so I’m sure you’ve drank before.” His voice is low and smooth, if not a little nervous. I find myself nodding. He’s not pressuring me into anything and I haven’t drank much before, but wine isn’t strong… I pick up the glass and raise it to my nose to sniff it. It smells a little sour but still tasteful. I hesitantly tip the glass back until I taste the strong, musky liquid splash onto my tongue. 

I must make a face because Wade laughs. I find my lips pressing together and sticking out slightly in a pout, which makes Wade laugh a little harder before finally stopping.  
“Sorry sorry.” He apologises. I wave it off and smile as way of telling him it’s alright before taking another sip from my glass. “Hey,” I look at him. “I wanted to thank you for saving me.” I pause.  
“I had help.” I tell him and then ask, hoping the small pit of disappointment opening up in my chest can’t be heard in my voice, “Is this a thank you dinner?” But he shakes his head.  
“No, no- well partly? I also just really wanted to take you out Baby Boy.” 

And I’m pretty sure that that nickname will be the death of me. I must get so red and Wade just looks at me smiling this little knowing smile across the table at me with those light brown eyes of his and it has my heart doing backflips in my chest.  
“O-oh- I start but thankfully our waitress comes then with our food and saves me from having to try and answer. 

~~~

“Their food is _insane_.” I tell Wade as he pays the lady that escorted me to the elevator. I’ve had a few glasses of wine and the two courses and dessert which was this vanilla cake truffle thing that had my eyes rolling back in my head and moaning around my spoon. 

Wade nods and leads me to the door, settling a big hand on the small of my back. It feels nice.  
“Honestly this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.” I tell him honestly. Okay so maybe the wine has me a little looser than usual but I only had like three glasses and it was light wine.  
“Really?” Wade asks. “I’m glad…You want me to call a taxi for you?” 

Oh yeah… I have to go home. I glance at Wade.  
“No it’s fine I’ve got it.” I give him a small smile and bite my bottom lip. He studies me with calculating eyes for a moment, making me pauses and raise my eyebrows in question but he just says,  
“Oh fuck it, shut up I am.” My eyebrow furrows and I’m about to say, ‘Excuse me?’ but he says, “Sorry. Look, do you want to stay at my place?” 

...and I know I should say no. I know I should. It’s the smart, obvious, responsible thing to do. But I find myself blushing as something hot rises in my chest and stammering:  
“I-I guess it’s fine if you want me to-” And then he’s gripping my hand and dragging my against him until our lips fit together. It’s chaste and then he’s smiling and now I’m even more flustered but he’s already waving down a cab and I don’t really have time to do anything more than to follow him into the back seat of the taxi. 

Surprisingly enough… Wade lives in a pretty crappy apartment. Not as crappy as mine and in a way better neighborhood but it’s still old and small. Wade closes the door behind us and glances around his apartment.  
“Sorry if it kind of smells like chimichangas. They make up about 80% of my diet.” He tells me apologetically, scratching the back of his head with a hand. I watch the way his bicep, even in his suit, strains against the fabric. My stomach rolls pleasantly. 

“I’m a college kid.” I remind him with a quirk of my eyebrow. “My apartment smells like ramen.” He grins, turning towards where I’m standing in his entryway. He reaches up to loosen tie and there it is again. That roll.  
“Do you want to take your jacket off?” He asks as he proceeds to take off his own and fold it over his arm. I stare where it lays on him for a moment before holding my sleeve out to him. He looks at it blankly for a second before sliding his eyes to my face, an eyebrow raised. I give him an innocent look and he tugs on my sleeve. When I nod he takes a step closer to me to slip the arm over my shoulder, hands lingering as he pushes it down my bicep. It’s when his other hand goes to do the same to my other sleeve that his thumb brushes against my collarbone. I shiver and Wade notices, his hands pausing and his eyes growing dark. 

“You’re somethin’ else…” He says under his breath, a repeat from earlier. I lean into him slightly and that’s all it takes. He tilts his head down to brush rough lips over the hot skin of my neck and the hands on my arms tighten.  
“Something else?” I ask a tad cheekily. He nips at the skin under my ear, his tongue, which takes me by surprise, darting out over where he bit to soothe the skin. And then I’m letting my head drop to the side so he can have better access to my neck.  
“Yeah,” He breathes. “Playing innocent…” I don’t respond with words, just a sharp gasp when he tilts my head up by my chin with one hand and licks a strip up my throat. 

I knew what was going to happen when I agreed to come to his apartment but well- I’m a grown ass man for god sake! 

Wade suddenly bites sharply into the sensitive skin beneath my ear and I’m brought out of my thoughts, a choked sound getting caught in my throat. Wade stiffens and pulls away slightly.  
“Are you hurt?” He asks, and I look up into his face for a moment before giving a small shake of my head.  
“No but, Wade?” I slip my fingers under the collar of his white button up shirt to unbutton a few. I feel him shiver slightly in response as he answers,  
“Yeah, Pete?”  
“Can you take off your…” I gesture to his face with a small wave of my hand. “Mask?” 

His mouth forms an ‘O’ shape in surprise before softening. He leans forward to kiss me then, and I’m about to pull away to tell him to ‘seriously, take it off’, but he runs his tongue over my lips and I shiver violently, a small high-pitched moan escaping my mouth. Wade growls and bites at my lower lip and it takes me a second to ground myself as he attacks my lips with his own. When I get ahold of myself, I force my trembling fingers to continue working at his buttons until his shirt is completely open. We pause in our kissing, panting against each other's mouths for a moment. I gently scrape my nails over his sculpted chest and Wade moans. 

“Oh _fuck_ Baby Boy.” He grips my hips with both hands and slowly backs me up until my shoulders hit his front door. I don’t respond, instead staring at him with hooded lids as I rest the back of my head against the door, mouth parted as I pant. “You’re beautiful.” He breathes and I squint, my gaze falling to the floor. “Nonono.” Wade pleads. “Don’t close yourself off.” The last word ends in a growl as he takes my lip again, tongue delving into my mouth. I’m not sure what to do but Wade gently caresses my tongue with his own wet muscle, coaxing me to join him. I hesitantly swirl my tongue around his before he sucks my tongue into his mouth, scraping his teeth across it and making me gasp and separate from him enough to blush like a madman. 

Wade nuzzles at my neck with his nose and presses himself in closer. I move my hands up to his shoulders to push at the fabric hanging there and soon the silky cloth is pooled at his feet. I skim my palms over his chest and down his torso. He releases a very controlled breath against my skin. “What do you want to do Petey.” It’s set up like a question but said like a statement. I pause, stilling my hands against his lower abdomen but still taking a second to dip my thumb into the crease of his v-line peeking out over the waist of his dress pants.  
“What do you mean?” I answer after a moment.  
“Do you want… “ Wade seems to struggle with what to say for a moment before settling on, “Me?”  
i "I do but, I'm a virgin so I don't know what to do so-" I start to explain.  
"Wait, what?" He cuts me off before repeating in a hissed voice, “You’re a virgin?!” I nod and he peels a hand off my hip to run it through his hair.  
“But I still want-” I try again and he shake his head.  
“I can’t Peter.” He used my real first name. I frown.  
“Why not?” I ask, feeling a bit offended.  
“Ugh, I want to Pete, don’t take it like that.” He groans. “God I want you but I can’t take your virginity.” My eyebrows draw together but before I can say anything he adds, “But we can do something else if you want?”  
“Something else like what?” I ask, a little shy.

Wade smirk as he drops to his knees. I let out a shaky exhale at the sight, my dick (which had been hard and then softened slightly due to all the talking, was getting fully erect again very quickly). Wade moves his hands to undo my belt, which jingles when he pulls it apart. He pulls my zipper down with his teeth and I find myself gasping, hips rocking forward of their own accord as he roughly pulls my pants and underwear down together in one go. My dick pops up when freed, lewdly smacking against my abs before settling in front of Wade’s lips. 

“I haven’t done this in a while so forgive me Petey.” Wade says, his hands running up and down my thighs comfortingly as he swallows my dick in one go. I moan, my hands coming up to cover my face even as my hips twitch forward into that wet heat. God it feels good. His throat briefly works around the crown before he pulls off enough to take in a gulp of air.

I wouldn’t call myself well endowed, but I wouldn’t consider myself small either. I’m about five inches, with a sizeable girth compared to my stature. Wade licks a hot strip from my balls to the tip along the underside, making me shiver violently. He smiles cheekily up at me before winking and wrapping his lips around the head and sucking hard, hollowing out his cheeks. 

“Oooooh, my god.” I groan out through clenched teeth and closing my eyes underneath my fingers. Though they open a half a second later when my curiosity gets the best of me. Wade wraps his hand around my shaft, moving it up and down my length in tight small jerks, as his head ducks so he can lick and suck at my balls. I croak out a sound that draws a small chuckle from him as he lets my balls fall from his mouth and swallows my dick down completely again, his nose buried in my pubic hair. I cry out this time, my hips stuttering forward and one of my hands flying down to rest atop his bald head.

“Wade,” I breath, fire licking at the base of my spine, lust stirring in my loins. He hums around my dick (which feels really fucking good, fuck) in his mouth as he pulls back enough to breathe through his nose and suck me back down again, setting a relatively fast pace. I try to speak through choppy moans. “I’m gonna’ cum Wade oh my god.” My nails bite into his scalp and my hips are rocking forward to match his pace. Barely three minutes of getting head and I’m about to blow my load. But before I can Wade starts making a gagging noise and I still abruptly. “Oh my god, are you okay?” My hands flutter around his head.  
“I’m fine.” He chokes out. “Just a little rusty.”  
“I’m so sorry, you don’t have to-” Before I can finish my gracious offer, Wade rolls his eyes and sets his wonderful mouth back onto my flushed cock. The buildup is nearly instantaneous as I watch his sinfully amazing mouth slide wetly up and down my length. I’ve never gotten a blow job before, but I’m pretty sure Wade is very skilled, rusty or not. “Fuck, Wade.” My hips jerk forward and I hiss, my breathing ragged. “I’m gonna’ cum I’m gonna’ cum I’m gonna’-!” I grunt loudly as a stinging heat roils through my loins and spills out of the head of my cock, down the throat of this amazing, strong anti-superhero. “Fuckfuckfuck.” I breathe once my hips have ceased twitching forward and I slump against the wall, running my fingers through my hair and tugging at the strands. 

I breathe raggedly for a few seconds while I get my bearings, Wade’s hands sliding up and down my bare thighs and his lips pressing against my hips every few seconds.  
“You okay, Pete?” I nod silently.  
“Yeah, I’m more than okay.” I gently tug up on Wade’s ear and he stands. “That was awesome.” I breathe, cupping a hand against the back of his neck and bringing him down for a kiss. Our mouths move slow and languidly for a few minutes until Wade finally pulls away with a soft groan, head lolling back on his neck as he pops it. 

“You do somethin’ to me Baby Boy.” He informs me. If I already wasn’t flushed I would be blushing. A thought occurs to me though and I glance down at his nether regions to have my suspicions confirmed.  
“Can… Can I help?” I ask, gesturing to the bulge in Wade’s pants.  
“Ah…” Wade voices, looking down at himself and then sighing. “No it’s okay Petey, you’ve had enough experience for one day.” He goes to turn away, probably embarrassed of his obvious erection, but I grab ahold of his bicep, stopping him in his tracks.  
“I want to help.” I tell him. Instead of waiting for a response or direction, I turn him to face me again and I lower my hand to palm at his dick in his pants. Wade breathes out shakily through his nose.

I don’t make eye contact with him, looking down at his bulge as I massage him through the fabric before the thought occurs to me ‘hey maybe this isn’t the most productive way to get someone off’. So I undo his pants with unsteady hands, letting one hand wander up Wade’s hard abdomen as the other flicks his fly open and pulls the zipper down. Wade tugs down his pants himself when I hesitate for half a second, unsure of how to go about it. He doesn’t pull down his underwear though and I shoot him a look through my eyelashes. I press my hand flat against his stomach, leaning up on my tiptoes to kiss his juncture where his shoulder meets his neck. I nip lightly with my teeth and he elicits a soft moan. 

I turn my hand where it sits against his abs until my fingertips are under the waistband of his gray boxers. Wade hisses in a breath through his nose and I dig up the confidence to reach all the way in and pull him out of his underwear.  
“Jesus.” I breathe, giving his length a tentative stroke downward. “You’re huge.” 

Wade groans and sets his hands my shoulders, pressing his forehead into my hair. “You can’t say stuff like that Petey or I’m gonna’ be cumming faster than you did.” That earns him a punch the the arm and he gives an amused, yet gruff laugh.

Considering that I’ve never given another man a handjob before ever, I find myself hesitating. Wade stands close, patient as can be, for a few long seconds before thinking to myself, ’You got the gist of it you asshole. If you can take down evil corporations you can give a guy a good handjob.’ I grip the base of his dick tightly to get his attention before lightening my grip and stroking out. Wade’s fingers flex on my shoulders but other than that he does not move. After a few strokes I feel my palm beginning to chafe and know that it can’t feel at all kinder on his dick, so I lift my hand to my mouth and spit in my palm before licking through it so it doesn’t drip off. I quickly put it back onto Wade’s shaft, which twitches in my grip. He grunts against my hair. 

“Fuck that was hot.” He breathes. I smile to myself, feeling a bit proud, squeezing my fist at the base every time my hand strokes down. After a few more moments, I lift my face to Wade’s, whose pupils are blown wide when he meets my gaze. He must be able to tell by my expression that I’m going to kiss him because he leans down to take my lips before I move to meet him. Our kisses are slow and open-mouthed as I continue to stroke him between us, the pace slow but steady. I twist my fist at the crown experimentally and Wade moans against my lips.  
“Faster Petey.” He requests breathlessly, one hand sliding down my side and pushing my shirt up to press his palm against my skin. I speed up my hand as it moves up and down his dick, precum leaking from the tip and smearing down his length. I glance down and swallow hard before looking back to Wade and kissing him again, harder this time. Our teeth clack together but it doesn’t hurt either of our super-strong bodies so we ignore it. Wade thrusts his tongue into my mouth, fucking into it and making me groan around the wet muscle. He begins to thrust into my hand, which is starting to cramp from being fisted so long but I don’t uncurl my fingers, keeping them cupped so Wade can rock himself into my grip. 

“Oh Fuck Pete.” Wade moans. I begin to meet his thrusts with my hand, bouncing hard off of his swollen balls. “Fuck!” When my hand reaches the head I give my wrist a twist that I know from personal experience feels deliciously good.  
“That feel good?” I ask, breath tickling against his jaw. He nods and groans, head tipping back on his shoulders. 

I can tell he’s close by the way his strong thrusts are starting to stutter. Wade moves a hand to my hair and grips the strands tightly. The sting on my scalp tingles it’s way down my spine and he yanks me close for a kiss that sucks my breath from my lungs. I feel his dick stiffen in my grip and then twitch. Wade’s shoulders tense and he moans against my mouth, hot breath dancing over my skin.  
“C’mon Wade. Cum.” I breathe, my free hand sliding over his torso to rest on his abdomen, lips brushing against his as I speak. His abs clench beneath my palm and then he chokes on a growl, his length jerking in my hand and then hot ropes of his cum are painting over my fingertips. 

His arms wrap around me as I stroke him through his orgasm, holding me close and breathing hard by my ear. His release is thick and dripping down my fingers and I’m a little grossed out. After a minute I awkwardly shift in his grip.  
“Uh, Wade?”  
“Yeah?” His voice is still breathy.  
“Could I clean my hand?”  
“Oh!” He jerks away, hands still on my shoulders. “Yeah! God I’m an idiot. Sorry. Shut up, I said I was sorry.” I tilt my head, about to ask what he talking about, but a smile tugs at my lips and I give a small shake of my head. 

Wade stuff himself back into his boxers and fumbles over his shoes and my pants lying on the floor as he walks to the kitchen whilst pulling his slack back up over his hips. This reminds me that I’m still naked from the waist down. I bend to look for my underwear under my pants and Wade’s jacket, holding my dirtied hand safely by my side. 

When I straighten I turn in time to see Wade paused in the kitchen doorway, a damp dishtowel in one hand and his eyes trained directly onto my ass that, moments before, had been bent over and probably giving him quite the eyeful. I feel myself flush as I struggle pulling my underwear over my thighs with my one clean hand. 

Wade has the audacity to laugh his ass off for like a million years before crossing over to help. I’m glaring at him as he swiftly pulls my briefs up and taking my hand to wipe it clean.  
“Even pouting you’re cute, Petey.” He says and my mouth opens and closes a few times.  
“I’m not pouting.” I finally grumble, eyes trained on the floor. Wade scoops a hand under my chin and lifts my face so he can study my face, a smirk teasing his lips.  
“So are.” He mutters and before I can argue he drops a kiss onto my forehead and turns away, scooping the crumpled clothes off the floor. He smiles a knowing smile at me before asking,  
“I know we just ate… but are you hungry?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the part when Wade accidentally flashes Bucky his ass ans Bucky is internally just like, 'ew.' Idk that part made me laugh a lot because it's just a part that's kind of snuck in there. Please leave comments (reviews and ideas/concerns are the most helpful atm) and kudos!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So there's fluff and smut? We've come a long way in our story and now it's about almost finished. I got no comments last chapter so I decided to go ahead and wrap this story up. If you'd like to follow me to keep up with my works and art, follow my instagram @lynnielie

Wade’s P.O.V

Waking up next to Peter made me feel like one of those fancy paintings in art galleries that represent love: flighty, happy in that heart squeeze I’m-about-to-have-a-stroke type of way, and kind of horny. Peter’s eyelashes are just so cute and brown and his lips are parted and he’s snoring. Like not loudly, but not like in a female ‘oh aren’t I dainty yet realistic’ way either. Just snoring, and drooling a little too actually. But my eyes roam over his moles and I have to urge to connect them all with my fingertip and kiss each one down to his chest. 

It’s with this thought that I lean over and kiss right below his jaw. He’s also wearing no shirt, and my underwear and god if that isn’t a total turn-on. After eating a handful of oreos and using my shower last night he’d kinda collapsed and I fell in bed next to him not long after. 

I kiss down his neck to the juncture that meets his shoulder and he snorts and inhales sharply. I smile against his warm skin and continue down his torso, filling in the need to kiss his moles and shoving the blanket away as I go. I jump over his nipples because I don’t want to sexually harass him in his sleep (though I’m pretty close anyways). When I kiss his hips, I can’t help eyeing his nether regions, and actually see his dick twitch in his- no _my_ boxers.  
[ _’Oh fuck that’s hot.’_ ] Yellow thinks.  
( _’I wonder if he’s having a wet dream right now.’_ )

I bite gently at his hip, just enough to shock him awake, and then he’s blinking down owlishly at me, cheeks turning red.  
“W-wade…” And he stutters my name in his cute little I-just-woke-up voice that’s scratchy and high-pitched and I want to moan at the sound. Instead I suck a hickey right above the waist-line of my underwear.  
“Good morning Baby Boy.” I greet when I finish, admiring my handiwork before squirming two fingers under the elastic and letting it snap back against his side. He gasps and I find myself grinning. A glance down confirms that he’s become almost completely hard and his length is almost touching my chest since the thin, loose material of my underwear aren’t doing a lot to rein him in. 

He’s blushing like a madman under my attentions and as I raise myself up to kiss his temple, my belly and hips brushing against his boner on the way up. He squirms and I give him a knowing smile before catching his lips with my own. He has morning breath but I ignore it. I don’t have morning breath because my spit kills any bacteria that try to form in my mouth at night so I know he doesn’t mind as I shove my tongue into his mouth. He grunts in surprise, hands hesitantly smoothing up my sides and brushing over my shoulders.  
“You’re so _thick_.” Peter mumbles when our lips break away. 

I raise my eyebrows and stutter out a breath of disbelief. “You like that huh?” I don’t think he meant to say the comment out loud in the first place but he nods anyway and I’m running a teasing hand up his inner thigh. I feel myself hardening in my pajama bottoms and I give a small groan. I lower my hand to slip my fingers in the slit of my boxers and pull out Peter’s erection. A sigh filters past his lips and I swallow it down with my own, running my tongue over his bottom lip and giving his length a few steady strokes from base to tip. I pull away just in time to see his abs crunch as he pushes his hips up into my fist. Heat licks up into my belly. For some reason I find little things like that incredibly hot.  
( _’God.’_ ) White moans.  
[ _’Fuck him already.’_ ] Yellow demands.  
_’I can’t just fuck a virgin.’_ I snap at them because it’s not like I’m over here not wanting to fuck Peter’s brains out because dear fuck I do. But he’s so young and small and blushy and autistic. I would feel like an asshole if I stole his virginity away.

To squelch my suddenly overwhelming desire, I quickly push down my pj’s around my hips to allow own my erection to bob free. Peter makes a humming noise and when I glance at his face I see he’s eyeing my dick like-  
[ _’Like you’re fuckin’ candy in a candy shop.’_ ]  
I almost snort but then Petey’s reaching down and gripping my dick and I grunt at the sensation, toes curling. He pulls a few tricks like he used last night and twists his hand around the head and I’m panting like a highschooler in gym in no time. I reach down to gently push his hand away and the boxes fucking complain which is really fucking annoying.  
[ _’What’re you doing?!’_ ]  
( _’He was gonna’ jerk you off again!’_ )

Without bothering to give them a response, I grip both Peter and I in my hand.  
“Fuck, Wade.” Peter breathes.  
I give him a small, unsure smile. “Is this okay?”  
“More than okay.” He answers with a nod and I can’t help but feel deja vu. I slide our erections against each other again, more confident this time. I feel Peter’s dick twitch in my hand and slick, warm pre-cum seeps from the crown of his cock and onto my fingers. Ugh see? Hot. The pre-cum does make it easier to slide our shafts together in my grip as I rock forward. 

Honestly I don’t think I’m going to last long like this. I don’t think Peter is either by the hitch in his ragged breathing every few seconds and the way his hands are fisting desperately at the sheets. I feel like a goddamn mother effing teenager. I lasted barely ten minutes last night! It’s something about Peter it has to be. He’s like a perfect drug. 

I tentatively squeeze my fingers around us tighter, pulsing them in time with my lazy thrusts. Peter lets out a breathy, high-pitched moan and throws his head back into the pillow.  
“Oh fuck.” He breathes. “That feels so good.”  
I find myself staring at his face, getting lost in my head for a few moments. His mouth is parted as he pants, lips red from being kissed, eyes screwed shut, and his eyebrows are furrowed. Every few seconds he’ll close his mouth to swallow and his adam's apple will bob. It’s just so damn tempting and after a moment I find myself licking up his throat. 

Peter lets out a long, drawn out moan and I feel the vibration of it against my lips. I circle my hips and grind forward in short, rapid thrusts and then his balls are tightening and he’s wrapping an arm around to scratch at my shoulders, as desperate, almost incoherent pleads fall from his mouth.  
“Oh my god ohmy _god_ Wade I’m gonna’ cum. I’mgonna’cum. Ah-!” He thrusts up into my grip and-  
“Wade!” he’s spilling over my hand, hips twitching and more mumbled words spilling from his lips. I pull back so I can stroke him through his orgasm. I didn’t really want to, because his dick twitching against my own felt really hot but I couldn’t stroke him properly otherwise. 

I kiss him as he recovers, our mouths moving against each other's sloppily, him pulling back every few seconds to gulp in air. He’s so perfect. I bite at his lips until his breathing slows and then he’s saying,  
“I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard.” And I laugh-groan in response because it’s such a cute thing to say but at the same time it’s hot as hell and my dick is still painfully hard. I guess he remembers this because he looks down like ‘oh’.  
“Can I… use my mouth?” He asks tentatively. I let out a breath because _holy fuck_ this kid.  
“Yes.” I breathe and I roll off of him so he can lean over my lap. 

He crouches in front of my lap on the bed, which creaks in protest as we change positions. Peter wraps slightly shaking fingers around the base of my shaft. I’m not sure if he’s shaking because he just came or because he’s nervous- probably both. 

“Try wrapping your lips around your teeth until you get used to it.” I instruct softly, running my fingers through his feather-soft bed head. He does as I say, and I smile because he looks a little silly, but then he’s sinking his mouth over my dick and ugh. He’s not using his tongue, probably doesn’t know how, but he takes in as much as he can, until I feel my head bump against the back of his mouth and slurps his way back up. His mouth is hot and it still feels good, though it’s not the best blow job I’ve ever received. 

He pulls off then, his mouth making a lewd ‘pop’ when he does so. I raise my eyebrows in question and he stammers out, refusing to make eye contact with me,  
“C-can you…?” When I make no move to show I have any clue to what he’s asking he finishes, “Tell me what to do?”  
“Sure Baby Boy.” I murmur, giving him a small smile. He nods and covers his teeth with his lips before lowering himself onto my shaft. Because his lips are directly on my length, I get an idea for something that’ll feel good.  
“Hum.” I tell him and he only pauses for a second before slowly bobbing his head again, pace uneven, and he hums. The vibration sends a shock of pleasure up my cock and I twitch. “That’s good Petey.” I huff. “Try using your tongue.” When he looks up at me in his work, I elaborate. “Lick the underside.” And then the flat of his tongue runs over the vein along the underside of my dick and I grunt, fingers tightening in his hair. “Just like that-” I cut myself off with a small moan when he suddenly starts to suck, his cheeks hollowing out and his tongue still sliding hot and wet against my shaft. I let my head fall back against the headboard for a few moments while I pant and try to collect my thoughts. 

When he pulls up, his tongue accidentally slides through my slit and I hiss. He’s a fast learner apparently. He does it again and my hips buck up without my permission. When he sinks his mouth back down onto my cock, I say,  
“Try timing it to the song ‘stayin’ alive’.” And a second later his pace quickens and evens out. He’s just so cute and inexperienced. He’s never had another dick in his mouth in his entire life. Just mine. “Ugh!” I grunt when he sucks especially hard on the crown. He’s only able to take in about half my length in his mouth and, apparently noticing this, he uses his hand that’s not stabilizing him in the bed to wrap around the base. 

“Oh fuck Petey.” I breathe, hips twitching again. I feel a familiar stirring in my loins and I let my head fall back again. “Close.” 

I dunno’ why but apparently my saying that gives him a burst of energy and his mouth is moving faster along my length, hand tightening in pulses and my orgasm is suddenly rushing up to meet me-  
“Hello!” I groan between my teeth as my hips jerk up into the tight heat of Peter’s mouth and pleasure rolls over me in waves. I didn’t mean to say that.  
( _’”Hello”? You idiot.’_ ) 

Cum spills out of the head of my cock and I groan again. Peter pulls off, looking at me with big eyes before craning down to lick up some of the cum that’s spilling over.  
“It doesn’t taste good.” I warn him a second too late, voice coming out croaked. His face screws up but he still swallows it and I find myself laughing. 

“Why did you say ‘hello’?” Pete asks, sucking his teeth.  
“I have no idea.” I admit, cupping a hand around the back of his neck kiss his lips, tasting myself on them. 

I sigh and roll over when we part to glance at the clock on my nightstand. Eleven-thirty.  
“Looks like we woke up late Web-head.” I tell him. “How about we go grab some breakfast? There’s an iHop down the street.” 

When I turn to look at him for an answer I find him burrowed back under the covers.  
“Oi, Spidey.” I call, throwing a pillow at his ass. “Bacon. Grits. Pancakes. I’ll pay.” A few seconds go by before he lets out a groan and throws the blankets over his head. He fixes me with a pout.  
“I’m getting up because I’m hungry.” I smile fondly at him. Apparently he doesn’t have anything planned for today and though I could use some cash, I don’t have to go get a card right away. 

I shuffle into my small bathroom, glancing at myself in the mirror and freezing mid-way as I reach for the tooth paste. I didn’t have my sheath on. I dunno’ how I didn’t notice my hands were all pruny. I guess I’m just used to seeing them most of the time. But… I glance to where Peter is sitting up in bed, staring blankly at the wall and blinking slowly as he prepares to face the day. He didn’t react to my appearance at all. Actually, if anything he acted like I was damn irresistable. 

I ponder over these thoughts as I squeeze too much toothpaste onto my brush and stick it in my mouth. I don’t really need to brush my teeth anymore but what can I say, old habits die hard.  
[ _’It looks like he’s a keeper.’_ ] Yellow expresses. I hum in agreement but of course a small part of me still thinks he’ll come to his senses, realize he can do better than an ugly wrinkled anti-hero in a shitty apartment. 

Peter enters the doorway, bare chest and long legs on display as he scratches at his abdomen, mouth open in a wide yawn. I feel another sappy smile splitting my face despite my previous thoughts and I lean forward to kiss his temple.  
“Did you sleep well by the way?” I ask him.  
He nods. “I was really tired.”  
I hum. “I bet. Do you have anything to do today?”  
He shrugs a shoulder as he reaches over me to grab the toothpaste, squeezing a gob of it onto his fingertip and shoving it into his mouth. “No’ reawy’.” He answers before spitting into the sink and rinsing his index finger off under the running water. “I have work at six but that’s it.”  
“Where do you work?” I find myself asking, turning off the faucet and going back into my bedroom while Peter takes a piss, opening the top drawer of my dresser and pulling out a Coca’ Cola t-shirt that, though being a size or two too big, will fit Peter well enough.  
“I deliver Pizza.” He calls over the flushing of the toilet. He finishes while walking up to my side, his shoulder brushing my arm.“Joe’s pizza.”  
I give him a small smile. “I love that place.” I tell him before holding up the shirt. “This okay?”  
He nods while taking it, moving the fabric between his fingers before pulling it over his head. I’m a little disappointed when he covers up his torso but, seeing him in my over-sized t-shirt also does something to me and I find myself kissing him without remembering initiating it. He hums a contented sigh against my lips.

“Okay so,” I saw as I pull away. “My pants won’t fit you because they’re too long but,” I crouch down in front of the very bottom drawer and take a small breath through my nose to brace myself before opening it. Peter glances down at it curiously and makes no comment about the short shorts and girl socks balled up inside. I’m guessing he remembers what I’ve said about Vanessa but I dig beneath a few layers of clothes before pulling up a pair of yoga pants. They’re not leggings but they’re still made out of that soft, stretchy material. “Will these work?” 

He scrunches up his nose slightly. “As long as I don’t look like an idiot in them.” He tells me. He pulls them on over his boxers, which must be uncomfortable but is probably more comfortable then no underwear at all. Thank god they’re an old, around the house pair, otherwise they’d probably be way too tight on the crotch area. They’re still a little revealing but seeing as this is 2017, it’s not that big a deal and they make his ass look _amazing_.  
“Do I look ridiculous?”  
“You look perfect.” I say, aware of the lustful undertone my voice suddenly possesses. He looks away in an attempt to hide his blush. “I just hafta’ get dressed real quick and then we can head out.”  
He nods and steps out of the bedroom. “I’m just gonna’ get my clothes in a bag.”  
“I have some in the cabinet by the fridge.” I call to him as I pull on a white t-shirt and pair of clean blue jeans.

When I cross into the kitchen, I’m greeted with Peter’s ass. He’s bent over at the waist as he rifles through the bottom cabinet for a few seconds before straightening with a plastic walmart bag in hand. He jumps when he sees me out of the corner of his eye.  
“You scared me.”  
“Don’t mind me.” I laugh. “Just enjoying the view.”  
He scoffs indignantly, face suddenly aflame. “Pervert.” He finally settles on grumbling, a playful look in his eye.  
“Says the one who wanted to lick up my cu-!” I’m cut off by a karate chop to the gut, spider-fast reflexes bringing him across the room in -2.5 seconds. Peter wordlessly folds his suit jacket that had been tossed haphazardly onto the counter and tucks it into his bag. I find myself laughing and wrapping my arms about his waist. “You’re so unpredictable.” I mumble by his ear before nipping that the shell of it and pulling away before he can say anything.  
“Says you!” He huffs while toeing on his nice shoes. He whips around to face me, lips pursed in another stubborn pout. “Are we getting food or not?” 

I mimic his pout and tone as I say, “Yes we are!” He holds my gaze for a few seconds before he cracks and a smile dances across his lips. “Ha!” I point at him. “I win!”  
( _’And people say Peter is a child.’_ )  
I roll my eyes and usher him out the door with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Do we have to hail a cab or…?” Peter trails off, gesturing to the busy street.  
“Well,” I answer. “We can if you want to? But it’s right down there so.” I gesture to the iHop sign barely a block away.  
“Oh.” Peter voices. “I didn’t see.”  
“I know Baby Boy.” I say with a wink in his direction. 

When we get to a cross walk and I go to press the pedestrian walking button, he reaches over me and does it, lightning fast. I raise my eyebrows at him, which I do have because my sheath is on thank fuck.  
Peter shrugs sheepishly. “I like doing that.” He mumbles and gosh I just want to eat him up.  
_’Who’s the child here?’_ I ask the boxes smugly. They don’t answer, which I take as an answer. Ha. 

I hold the door open for Peter who ducks under my arm.  
“Welcome to iHop!” A woman says cheerily. “How many?”  
I nod in greeting. “Two.”  
“We’ve got tables open right this way.” She says, tucking menus under her one arm and gesturing to the almost empty restaurant with the other.  
“Thank you.” I tell her and she beams. 

When Peter hesitates to follow behind me, I slide my fingers in between his and give him a reassuring smile. He walks behind me, eyes trained on our hands until I let go so we can sit down. We both order water and the waitress leaves two menus on the table. 

“What do you wanna’ eat Petey?” I ask, picking up a menu. “I dunno’ about you but I sure worked up an appetite.” I wink at him and he scoffs, heat rising to his cheeks.  
“I don’t count because I’m always hungry.” He explains and I bark out a laugh.  
“And a cheeky little shit.” I add under my breath as I read over the menu. I see him shoot me a smug look before doing the same. 

“Sunny side breakfast set...” Peter mumbles to himself, canine tooth working at his thumb nail. I glance at him before finding that on the menu. It’s on the cheaper side, and right beneath it reads, ‘Served with an egg, two strips of bacon and grits’.  
“You sure that’s enough?” I ask him, looking up and pointing it out on the menu. “Don’t worry about the price Petey just get however much you’ll eat.” He looks up at me with big eyes as he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, looking totally guilty.  
“Then I think I’ll get the deluxe special.”  
I feel my face split into a grin. That’s easily the biggest meal on the menu. “Me too.” 

“Have you guys decided what to order yet?” Our waitress asks, coming over just as we set our menus down. Her eyes keep darting over to Peter, making him a tad nervous as he stammers out his order, though she’s obviously smitten by the boy. I clear my throat to return her attention to me while I order. Usually women are making heart eyes at me when I’m under the sheath, but the girl has to be seventeen.  
“Your orders will be right out!” She chirps, sending one last smile in Peter’s direction before walking away. 

“She has the hots for you.” I tell him once she’s out of earshot.  
“What?” Peter squeaks. He clears his throat immediately after, embarrassed.  
I let it slide, saying,”You couldn’t tell?”  
He shakes his head. “Well, no. Girls don’t usually like me?” It comes out as a question, his eyebrows furrowing as he absent-mindedly stirs his water with his straw.  
“Why do you think that?” I ask leaning my elbows on the table.  
He stutters under my scrutiny, eyes straying away. “B-because they’ve never paid me much attention l-like ever.”  
I blink. “Petey, that girl just fell over herself trying to get you to look twice at her. Do you really not notice or are you really that gay.” I’m smirking at at him, sliding one of my feet forward under the table to wrap around his ankle.  
His face is on fire and he swallows twice before meeting my gaze, eyes hooded by thick eyelashes. “I seem to be very gay for you… I dunno’ about other people.” 

I clear my throat a few times and cough, hitting my chest with my fist once or twice to keep the words, ‘go to the bathroom right now so I can finger you against a stall wall’ inside my mouth. It’s a very difficult feat. Peter is a drug. Period. 

“Here’s your coffee…” The waitress says, startling me from my dirty thoughts. She sets two mugs of steaming hot coffee in front of me and Peter. “Any cream and sugar with that?” She asks, blue eyes blinking between Peter and I, a light blush dusting her cheeks when Pete gives her a polite smile, ducking his head as he answers,  
“Yes please.” The waitress, who’s name on her name tag says ‘Beth’, digs a handful of creamers out of her apron’s pocket and sets them on the table in between our drinks. 

I decide that I really don’t like those gooey heart eyes she’s fixed on Petey, so I turn my attention to him, asking in a low timber tone, “You like your coffee sweet, Baby Boy?”  
“U-uhm,” Peter stutters. “Of course. Do you take yours black or something?”  
Seemingly a bit taken aback, Beth fixes her gaze on the ground and mumbles, “Your food will be out in a moment.” I can’t help but smirk after her receding back. 

“Why’d you call me that?” Peter asks, cheeks hot as he tears the cover off one of the small containers before dumping it into his coffee.  
“Sorry.” I apologize, not really sorry. “I guess I didn’t like the way she was looking at you.” I sniff before sending him a smirk, cutting him off before he can respond with, “And I do drink my coffee black by the way.”  
“That’s disgusting.” He voices, lip upturning in disgust. “It’s just coffee grinds and water.”  
I grin, amused with myself as I joke, “Gotta’ take it like a _man_.”  
Peter rolls his eyes but huffs out a laugh. “Like a man, huh? You like things manly?”  
“It depends on what it is.” I admit, top teeth scraping at my bottom lip. Peter laughs again, shaking his head and raising his mug to his lips.  
My eyes narrow curiously. “What?” I ask.  
“Nothing.” He says, trying to hide his smirk behind the rim of his glass as he blows on the surface of his coffee.  
“No it’s something.” I call him out, cocking an eyebrow at him.  
“Well I was going to say something but it would probably be inappropriate so.” He explains briefly, waving around the hand that’s not holding the handle of his coffee.  
“Do I look like I’d keel over and die if you said something inappropriate?” I demand and a wide smile dances across his lips as he takes a sip of his coffee, taking a moment to hold it in his mouth before swallowing it and saying,  
“I was going to say ‘I guess you want me to throw out the maid costume I have then’.” I bark out a laugh, fondness tugging at my chest.  
When I get my laughter under control, I say seriously, “I said it depends Petey.”


End file.
